Voyager: Nightmares Made Love (Ep 1)
by Femslash-Universe
Summary: (Voy: NML; Ep. 1.) Seven has been dreaming since she began sleeping, but for the last few months they've been more like nightmares; an intrusive vision of her and Kathryn, romantically involved. When Seven acts upon her impulse, both must work through a labyrinth of love, desire, fear and guilt. There are no warnings for this piece.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Seven left Ensign Turner's room. She touched her hair as she strode down the hallway to the turbolift. She slid her hands over her jumpsuit just to be sure everything was where it was supposed to be.

Safe in her own quarters, she let out a deep breath. Her body was still, almost frozen where she stood. She closed her eyes. It hadn't gone well. He had been such a good choice–handsome, kind, a little shy and soft spoken, but overall a good choice. While he had been kind during their encounter, she hadn't felt anything–nothing that compared to the dreams.

Ever since she'd started sleeping instead of regenerating in her alcove, curled on a small white sofa, she'd been having the dreams, or nightmares. Ensign Turner was supposed to be the key to curing the nightmares! She didn't much care for the feelings it caused her, yet, as she curled up on the couch once again, the answer she'd been pushing away crept back into her brain like a worm. _No_, she told herself, _stop. Stop thinking._ As she focused her mind on naming minerals alphabetically, she sunk into sleep.

The walls around her were soft white, the furniture black. There was a terrace. The door open. Black curtains billowed in a warm breeze. She could taste salt in the air, something she'd never experienced in real life.

"Are you coming?" A voice called from the terrace. Seven could feel her heart beginning to pound as she walked slowly toward the door. She knew what she would find but she couldn't stop her feet. She caught a glimpse of herself in a standing mirror, her jumpsuit had gone and she wore an oversized plaid button down, nothing she'd wear in real life. She examined her hair, down and on her shoulders.

The curtain whipped around, blocking the view. She caught glimpses of a sea, bluest blue. She spotted a metal coffee cup on a sleek black table. Steam rose from the mug.

Then suddenly, as the curtain snapped backward and clung to the door frame, Kathryn stood before her, smiling devilishly as she always did in the nightmare.

"I see you found my favorite," Kathryn said as she moved forward and touched the lapels of the flannel. Seven caught her breath in her throat. Her arms filled with goosebumps. Her heart skipped a few beats.

"I will return it to you," she said.

Kathryn laughed as she leaned against the door frame, "No. It looks good on you." She gazed at Seven.

"Is there something the matter?" Seven asked, though she knew there was. She couldn't move her feet, she was glued to the floor. She knew what came next and she felt a lurch of excitement, even though she tried to feel nothing. Her heart began to beat in her ears.

Kathryn approached her and touched her hand to Seven's hair.

Seven hated her hair down. The looks she got from others made her uncomfortable. Still, she felt a different kind of sensation when Kathryn touched her–anxiety of some kind, but not bad–they were unlike any feelings she'd felt with the Borg.

Kathryn let her fingers fall down Seven's cheek, across her lips. She slipped her hand inside the flannel and felt Seven's bare chest. Seven shivered.

Kathryn smiled again, then leaned in. She lightly touched her lips to Seven's.

Seven shot up on the sofa. She rubbed her face with her hands. She was so tired of the same nightmare night after night. And she was angry with Ensign Turner–he was supposed to fix this issue! She grabbed a metal scrap from her work bench and crushed it in her hand. She paced the room, anger and frustration pulsing through every step. She glanced at the time-0200 hours. She shook her head. She was done standing around.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Seven checked her hair and ran her hands along her jumpsuit as she took the turbolift. The ship was quiet, even for 0200 hours. She wished there were more things going on so she could snap at a few ensigns who still feared her, despite her attempts at being polite and integrating into their world. What she wouldn't give for something to exert her anger–even a good Borg fight.

The doors opened and the bridge was just as quiet as the rest of the ship. She made her way across the bridge, angrily pushing a chair out of her way. She stood in front of the doors to the Captain's ready room and promptly froze.

Her feet were glued. It was the nightmare all over again. She nearly waited for the taste of salt in the air, but it didn't come, and she knew she was awake, wide awake. What was she going to say? What foolish thing was she so angry over? What could the Captain do? If anything, the doctor would have been a better solution for her problem. She put her hand to her forehead. This was the worst idea. She tried not to panic but there were her feet, stuck to the ground, standing in front of the Captain's door.

Then, without notice, the doors opened.

Kathryn jumped and then chuckled. "What are you doing? Geez,"

Seven remained frozen, completely blank.

"Is everything okay, Seven?"

"Yes," she managed to utter, "I could not sleep and thought you may also be awake, due to all the coffee you drink. And I've been working on the schematics you requested." She held up her PADD, pleasantly surprised it was actually in her hand, especially since she hadn't remembered taking it in the first place.

Kathryn nodded with an amused expression, "I can't say that's not true, about the coffee. I can take a look at what you have so far. Come in."

Seven prayed her feet would work, and they did, and like good soldiers they followed the Captain into her ready room. As the doors behind her closed with a suctioned pop, she suddenly felt a sense of undetermined imminence, like something was going to happen whether or not she could try to stop it.

She handed the PADD over like an automaton, mechanical and rigid, to Kathryn who immediately began reading what she'd written. Though Seven couldn't remember what she had written, she hoped it was acceptable, and long, to buy her time.

As the room grew quiet, like she needed her mind, she focused on her breathing. Kathryn was immersed in the text. Deep breaths, keep breathing, she thought as she closed her eyes briefly.

As Kathryn began to turn her chair toward her desk top, Seven began to take her own pulse, putting two fingers to her neck. She counted in her head, sure she'd read somewhere that this was the way to check if she were having a panic attack–another foreign thing she was quickly becoming accustomed to.

Kathryn placed the PADD on a stand atop her desk, so she could read it hands-free. She stretched her arms out and then held her hair up as she exercised her neck back and forth gently. Seven lost track of count as she watched her, and quickly felt light, like she was hovering just above the ground.

Part of her brain turned off and another part, one she didn't really know, turned on. _No!_ She shook her head and looked toward the doors, instinctively wanting to go that direction all the way back to her quarters in the furthest, darkest corner of the ship. But she knew better. She knew she had to pretend that everything was fine, to avoid suspicion. But the impulses kept shooting to the surface, so quickly that she struggled for control, and ultimately, lost.

"I had intercourse for the first time with an ensign." _Oh no. What did I just say out loud? Shut up, Seven._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"I had intercourse for the first time with an ensign." _Oh no. What did I just say out loud? Shut up, Seven._

Kathryn stopped reading, but she didn't turn around. Seven waited, sweat dripping from her temple. She wiped it away quickly with her exoskeleton hand.

Kathryn released her hair from her grip and let red locks fall over her shoulders, but she would not turn around, she refused. "I hope that was a positive experience for you."

Seven stepped forward, caught herself and stopped, but the words kept flowing from somewhere deep inside, unstoppable—"It wasn't."

A few moments of silence.

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure it will be better the second time."

Thinking of copulating with him a second time, Seven felt a surge of sour acid inside. Her hand to her chest, she swallowed the acid and continued. "He appeared to be apt."

Kathryn nodded absentmindedly, "Uh huh."

She stared at the words on the PADD but none of them computed. Her brain and body, soul, frozen, stared but could not make out any meaning in the text. At the edges, she found a glimmer, a place where Seven had touched the screen with her thumb and left behind a print. Kathryn put her own thumb near it, afraid of smudging it, delicately outlining it.

Worried, waiting, Seven let her mind go. She thought of the times she'd caught Kathryn watching her. The Captain, of course, was permitted to look wherever she wanted, but there were times she thought it had felt intimate, even when they were across a large room. There was something about the way Kathryn looked at her in brief glances that stayed with her long after the moments passed. She'd even thought she caught Kathryn looking at her lips when they spoke to one another, but the idea was absurd at the time, wasn't it?

Seven smiled to herself as she thought of the time they worked in the Jefferies tubes. While in an especially tight space, fixing a panel in the tubes, they both lay on their backs beside each other. Kathryn's body moved against her own, heat left behind in every spot that touched her. Kathryn's hip leaning into her as she tried to disable a wire in an awkward position. She remembered–warmth, confusion, excitement, dread. Trying to focus, she pretended to work on the panel, but her mind had traveled light years away when she felt Kathryn laying beside her, her leg sliding against her. Strange thoughts filled her head. Sensations shot through her. A flash of another world. Seven visiting Kathryn on her family's farm in Indiana. She sweated. Another snapshot, a tour of the house. The scent of cinnamon. A moment where Kathryn showed her into her bedroom. A flash, herself standing in front of Kathryn. Coffee. A moment, Kathryn looking from her eyes to her lips. A flash, Kathryn leaning in. A moment, their lips touching softly, opening, pulling her closer. A sharp breath. A small moan.

"Seven?" Kathryn had asked, laying beside her in the tubes.

"What?" She said in the moment, lacking precision.

Kathryn cocked a small smile, narrowing her eyes, trying to figure her out. Seven stared back, a jolt flicked throughout her. She turned away promptly, squaring her shoulders and focusing on the wires again. "I apologize."

Kathryn grinned and held her hands in the air, "I'll still need that wrench."

"Wrench?" Seven looked to her, back to the wires, and back to Kathryn again.

Kathryn shook her head, amused by Seven's odd behavior, "I'll get it."

"What do you-" Seven suddenly froze, hypersensitive to all sensations as Kathryn leaned over her, reaching for the wrench. Seven had been covered in Kathryn's hair, her scent surrounding all of her senses, capturing her. Almost entirely undone, her body flung her back to reality as Kathryn's chest pressed into her own. Loud buzzing grew in her head, their clothing sliding across each other, her heartbeat pounding in her entire body, a beaded drop of sweat streaking across her skin, the echo of clanking as Kathryn took the wrench from the metal floor.

Another sharp breath.

Awake. Instantaneously brought back as Kathryn's weight suddenly lifted. Kathryn's hair, the cloud of her scent, sucked away from around Seven, abandoning her; instinctively, she took a needed breath. She hoped it hadn't been as audible as it felt, ringing in her ears.

Seven came back to herself again from the memory, standing a few feet behind Kathryn at her desk. Muscles inside her throbbed. She knew what the sensations meant in their basic form, though she wasn't sure she knew how or what would fix her problem. She would have to rely on instinct alone, one that was normally incorrect in the eyes of humans. But she needed to know, and that was the only thing that powered her enough to move. She squared her shoulders, touched her hair, and stepped forward.

Quietly, she stood behind Kathryn and smiled as she gathered Kathryn's hair in her hands. She'd wanted to touch it for so long. She let her fingers run along the strands, missing the way it felt against her skin. She gathered the red hair and slid it on one side. She wanted to see her skin, wanted to see, to feel, if it was like hers, sensitive.

She ran her exoskeleton hand along the flesh.

She moved her lips close to the muscle between Kathryn's neck and shoulders, a strong and defined muscle. Seven wanted to know if she had the same physiological reaction. She glanced to the back of the Captain's head, looking for a reason to stop, and not finding one. She chose a spot carefully, touching her finger to the spot gently then touching her lips to the warm skin.

Feeling herself growing erect, she pressed her lips to the spot. She wanted to taste her suddenly. She let her tongue lightly scrape against Kathryn skin. The muscle underneath twitched.

She placed her lips at the base of Kathryn's neck. She pressed and took a small swipe with her tongue. She watched Kathryn's skin closely as it rippled with goosebumps. Seven tracked it as the goosebumps traveled along onto her own hand and spread across her body.

Seven smiled and nuzzled into her, touching her nose to Kathryn's ear. She tucked into the red hair as it fell around her. Overcome with sensation, she buried herself in the hair, the familiar scent she'd gone so long without. Cinnamon and coffee, sweat. Seven kissed Kathryn's neck again, feeling like she had returned home.

Kathryn, tense, captivated, did nothing. She remained still, breathing shallow but constant. A hot mess of emotions rose in her and quickly, with great difficulty, she pulled away, rising from her seat. She walked around her chair and moved toward the sofa that lined the large-panel window. She stood straight, looking out into space.

Seven straightened, placing her hands behind her back.

The Captain once again chose to show only her back to Seven.

Looking out the large window, Kathryn held her hands against her chest and throat. She was flush, she could feel the heat radiating from her own body. She tried to hold on, tried crushing the sensations with her will power alone.

"Dismissed," Kathryn croaked. She walked to the replicator being careful to keep her back to Seven. She stood in front of the machine, wildly aware that Seven waited, watched her.

"Coffee," she said. Her metal mug appeared, steam rising from it. She stared at it, her mind heavy.

"Captain?"

Kathryn turned around quickly, surprised to find Tuvok standing where Seven had, seemingly only seconds ago. She looked back at the mug, hastily grabbed it and took a sip–lukewarm.

"What is it?" She asked as she put the mug back in the replicator. She moved toward him.

"I have come to inquire if you are well," He said, hands behind his back, she noticed, just like Seven.

She lifted her eyebrows, mildly amused.

Tuvok continued, "I have repeatedly called you on your comm. Is it malfunctioning?"

Before Janeway could respond, he tapped his own comm badge. "Tuvok to Janeway."

Janeway's comm played. She stared into the distance.

"Captain?" Tuvok asked.

"Yes, what is it, Tuvok?" Janeway was tired of questions, agitated by his presence.

"You appear to be distracted and disturbed. I will ask you again, are you well?"

Janeway pinched her nose and then pressed her fingers above her brow.

He continued, "Perhaps you are suffering from a migraine."

"I'm fine," she huffed. "I will be out in a minute, Tuvok."

He inclined and stepped out of the ready room.

She sighed audibly as soon as the doors suctioned closed.

Minutes later, dressed in a fresh jumpsuit, hair perfect, shoes buffed, and standing completely erect, the Captain stepped out of her ready room and onto the bridge.

"Captain," Tom said as she entered. She nodded.

Everyone watched her but she chose not to acknowledge it, petrified suddenly that maybe Seven had told them, or someone had seen what Seven was doing, what she let her do.

She avoided making eye contact with Tuvok in particular, and instead stood arms akimbo beside Harry.

"Anything to report?" She asked while looking out at the view of space.

"No ma'am. Only–" he stopped as Tom looked up at him, and she suddenly realized that something else may be going on.

"Yes?" she said as she turned to him, analyzing his expressions closely.

He gulped. "Uh, well, we got word from our last guest–"

"The Brenari trader-"

"Yes," Harry continued, "he said there's a planet not, really not that far from here, right in our," he tried to find the right word, scared to be under such scrutiny from the Captain, "right in our, uh, pathway, not out of the way at all, very close-"

"Get on with it, Mr. Kim," she smiled–Harry was beating around the bush.

"It's supposed to be a whole planet that looks like Tahiti. Beaches, islands, friendly people... And they typically trade for regular supplies, all things we can replicate with very little energy."

Janeway nodded, walking away from Mr. Kim and sitting at her command. "I'm guessing the crew is getting a little antsy." She turned to Chakotay. He smiled, raising his eyebrows, obviously hoping for a break himself. She shook her head.

Tom turned back to face her, "He didn't even tell you the best part, Captain. Apparently there are islands for different comforts. Some islands are parties, some are for athletic types with various sports, others are purely for nude sunbathing," he smiled in a daze. Kathryn snapped her fingers in his face. He jumped, "–and, and, and there's even private islands. You can reserve a whole island just for yourself.

Janeway shook her hand with a small laugh, "Is that supposed to entice me, Tom?" she purred, amused. He grimaced.

"I'll think about it."

Some of the crew audibly rejoiced at the prospect of such a great shore leave. Janeway eyed her bridge with great scrutiny and everyone quickly got back to work.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Seven? Seven? Helloo? Are you in there?" B'Elanna called from inside a shaft. "Hello!" She grumbled to herself as she began making her way out of the shaft, slipping down to the floor clumsily. "Goddammit, I swear, if I have to run this damn department for the rest of my–" She slid out of the hatch at the bottom and lifted herself up. Grease streaked her face and jumpsuit. Her hair stuck up in the back.

As she got to her feet, she found herself facing the back of Seven's head. She let out a snort. "Seven?" She asked through teeth. No response.

"Hey!" B'Elanna shoved Seven's shoulder. Seven jumped. She turned around, squared her shoulders and looked down upon B'Elanna. "The repairs are not yet complete. You must return to the tube."

B'Elanna smiled to herself. She walked around Seven, her shoulders tight, just like Kathryn, Seven thought. B'Elanna was angry. _Was Kathryn angry?_

"Oh my–you're not listening to me again!" B'Elanna realized partway through her tirade that Seven had long been lost in thought. She picked up a small metal scrap with some weight to it. "Hey!" She tossed the scrap toward Seven and she calmly, efficiently batted it away.

"What is going on?" B'Elanna begged. "Are you just trying to torture me? Be honest." She watched Seven with a look of desperation. Motionless now, she noticed that Seven seemed more limp than usual, almost sad.

"I apologize. I have many things on my mind at this time. Perhaps I should regenerate."

B'Elanna tried to brush off some of the dirt on her uniform and straighten her hair. The tight alcove they worked in created its own privacy. Other engineers worked at stations far from theirs.

B'Elanna tossed a tool into a box and leaned against one of the terminals.

"So? What is it?" She let out an annoyed breath.

Seven turned to her frowning. "Clarify."

"You're obviously having a problem with something," B'Elanna hated being the therapist but she did it well, despite her attitude. "So, what happened?"

Seven's frown remained.

"Look, you can't tell anyone this, okay?" B'Elanna spoke under her breath. Seven could hear her clearly despite her lowered voice. "There are different ways people deal with stuff. Sometimes, not always, I find it moderately helpful to talk about how I'm feeling. I'd rather throw a shuttle through a glass structure any day! But, sometimes you just have to get it off your chest, you know? Just let it out. Then you can move on… And we can fix the shaft so I can go take a shower."

She watched Seven; Seven inclined, released her hands from behind her back and crossed them against her chest.

"So?" B'Elanna asked.

"I have questions about species and sexuality."

"Gotcha. Birds and bees. What do you want to know?"

"Although the Borg have assimilated many cultures and societies, information regarding their social structures, laws and morality, I have not witnessed on Voyager, to my knowledge, any same-sex coupling. Is this prohibited?"

"Look, how often do you see 'different-sex coupling' on Voyager?"

"I have seen numerous ones."

"Oh, that's true," B'Elanna said to herself. "I don't know why there aren't more gays and lesbians on this ship, and I'm surprised how few I've seen on this trip. But the fact is, it's normal. There are very few planets _without _homosexuality."

Seven nodded. She paced back and forth in a small area, thinking. B'Elanna watched her, getting dizzy. She finally grabbed her by her arms and sat her down on a bench.

"I'm going to hurl if you keep moving like that."

Seven watched her carefully then nodded and sat still on the bench. B'Elanna could feel her energy change, she could see Seven struggling internally–the eyes, she noted to herself, just like Janeway's.

"Did you meet someone?" she asked quietly.

"I am not certain." She looked away from B'Elanna, continuing, "Troubling sensations occur when this person is nearby. My mind goes away from me, in a manner of speaking." She whispered, "I lose myself."

B'Elanna understood–she knew the pain of love. "Does she… or he, know?"

Seven felt wetness gather in her eyes. B'Elanna watched helplessly, trying not to make her uncomfortable while trying to withstand her own discomfort.

"If she, or he-"

"She," Seven clarified looking up sheepishly.

"She," B'Elanna continued, a soft expression, "if she knows how you feel, you might feel better, even if she doesn't feel the same way."

"That does not seem logical."

B'Elanna smiled, "There's the old girl. Love, my friend, is not logical." She spoke in a cavalier way she picked up from Tom–cocky, but earnest.

Seven stared at her, not comprehending.

"Does she make you feel like your skin's on fire? Like your heart is in your brain? Are you sweating a lot? Are your guts fluttering around inside you? I'm not great with frilly." She knew Seven would appreciate her masculinity.

"Yes, but those feelings are not logical. They are physiological. The sensations can be replicated, surely, if delivered by anyone in the same way."

"Yes, and no. Ensign Vorick could try doing what Tom does, but I would have no physical reaction. Same action, completely different feelings. It's not because of anything logical–I'm simply not attracted to Vorick," she lowered her voice quickly, but found that no one even noticed they were in the alcove. "Try to imagine doing what you'd like to do with _her, _but it's actually with, uh, Tuvok."

Seven tried to hold back a laugh. B'Elanna beamed, absolutely surprised to witness Seven showing strong emotion. "Or Neelix."

Seven grimaced and laughed again. "Or…" she thought to herself, biting her bottom lip, "Chakotay."

Now B'Elanna grimaced, "No, gross!" She thought for a quick moment, "Samantha Wildman?"

Seven thought, her lips twitched in a smile. "Although she is beautiful, I find that she is not in my taste."

"Right, well that makes sense. You like redheads. Short, sometimes terrifying, Captain redheads."

Seven thought of Kathryn again, her warmth, her skin. The way she tasted. The feel of her hair. The scent that always flooded her senses. Just the thought of it made her harden beneath her biosuit.

B'Elanna watched her, a small smile growing on her lips. "Look, do you like spending time with her? Do you wish you could just lay next to her forever? Do you want to do everything with her?"

"I would spend all my time with her, if it were possible."

B'Elanna nodded. "If you only felt physically attracted to her, we'd call that lust. When your body takes over your mind in passion–that's lust. But, seeing yourself having a life with this person-"

Seven thought back to the imaginary bedroom in Indiana, an image she conjured despite knowing how, where Kathryn kissed her, disrobed her, pinned her to the bed. She saw a new vision appear, a picture. Kathryn's hands and her own, laced together. Seven was intrigued by the vision–marriage, she figured out. Another image came to her: they were on board Voyager, they were in _their_ quarters. They shared a bed, a life... Kathryn sitting on the sofa reading a PADD… Seven peeking out from the bedroom. Calling her over… Kathryn smiling devilishly from the sofa, setting the PADD aside, walking toward her… Seven pulling her madly into a kiss, kissing her, kissing her chin, her throat… Later, Seven laying beside Kathryn in bed, holding her close, biting her ear to play with her… Kathryn whispering to her… _I love you..._

"If you can see a life, if they make you feel alive, and supported, and never alone… Love is usually the culprit. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy."

"Clarify," Seven said, returning from her reverie.

"It's a messy business. It's not all nebulae and Class M's. There's usually a lot of heartache. But it's a calculated risk, sort of."

"Clarify."

"Damned if you do, damned if you don't." She laughed to herself. "You can ignore how you're feeling as best as you can, let it go, ignore it, push it away. You can also embrace it, risk it, risk how your world works now in the hope that by taking this chance, you could live a life you never dreamed of. You can take the chance and be rejected too, that's part of the risk."

"Which selection is most successful?"

B'Elanna shrugged, "it's all just chance. It's a risk you take all the way in, or all the way out. No half-and-half, no one foot in each world. Can you live with these feelings inside you? Can you push them away? Will they ever truly go away? What's best for you? That's what you have to figure out."

"I am afraid."

B'Elanna nodded, "Yeah. We all are. Constantly. But can I tell you something?" She stood, grabbing the tool box in arms.

Seven inclined her head.

"I think she feels the same way about you. I've seen how Janeway looks at you."

Seven met her eyes directly, suddenly concerned that B'Elanna knew something about her that she herself barely fathomed. "How did you-"

"It was a guess," she smiled. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. I may be a hothead, but I'm also Maquis and Starfleet, at least while this mission lasts. That means I can keep a secret. Just, you know, don't waste time like I did, Seven. No one knows when or how things will change. Not tomorrow or in the next few minutes. You may not always have Voyager to depend on being close to her, getting to be part of her life. One day she will get us to the Alpha quadrant, I have no doubt. If anyone can, it's her. And you. Together." She smiled warmly and placed a hand on Seven's shoulder. "Be strong. You're Borg." She shoved her shoulder, roughly but lovingly.

"Now can you please help me fix this damn shaft before I lose my mind?"

Seven nodded, rising to the occasion, focused on the task.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Seven slipped into the cafeteria quietly. Relieved to find she was alone, she relaxed and walked to the replicator. She ordered a nutritional supplement, and a hot tea, one she had heard Kathryn speak highly of to Tuvok.

"Tea, eh?" perked Neelix.

She jumped, "Neelix. I was not aware of your presence."

"I'm sorry!" he took the cup for her, "Where do you want to sit?"

She pointed to the far left corner. He hurriedly carried her drink and plate to the table. "Come, come."

Quietly annoyed, she followed him. He gestured for her to sit. Internally agitated, she obliged him and sat where he directed. "Well, I better let you enjoy your…. um, food." He pointed to the square on her plate.

She bowed her head to him. He hurried off to the back. Silence filled the room and she stared at the supplement on her plate. White, like the plate it sat on, she realized she did not want to consume any thing. The tea steamed beside her. She brought the cup to her nose and breathed it in. She grimaced at the odor putting it away from her quickly. She stared at the white mug, the green tea inside steaming. She knew what she wanted. She carried the plate and mug back to the replicator to recycle.

"Coffee, black."

A metal mug appeared with black liquid and steam. She took the mug carefully and held it under her nose. It was close, she thought, but not the same. "Neelix?" she called from the bar. He popped up and made his way to her, pots and pans clanging and falling. She closed her eyes at the sharp sounds until they quieted.

"I require cinnamon. Do you possess this substance?"

Neelix beamed, "See, you're getting tired of tasteless food! He pulled out a rack from under the bar and placed it on the counter. "Take your pick!" He swung the rack, filled with small glass jars, that clanked softly as it spun, while he returned to the back room. He began putting the pans back on their hooks, quiet as possible.

Seven ran her fingers along the numerous jars, peeking through the glass and glancing at the labels. Her nose found off-putting odors, tantalizing ones, sweet ones. But as she opened the cinnamon jar, her eyes fell shut. It was a familiar, almost warm sensation. She drew a stick from inside the jar between her forefinger and thumb, her other fingers stretched out. She placed it carefully in the coffee mug.

She eyed the backroom, checking that Neelix was immersed in his own world. She took a moment then brought the mug to her mouth. She inhaled deeply. It was close. She placed the jar in the rack quietly.

She glanced at Neelix who was singing to himself. She eyed the mug in her hand. It was better than nothing. She took it with her as she left.

Distant and quiet, Seven entered the turbolift. Exited. Walked down the hall. Stopped in front of the door and looked up to find that she was not where she meant to be–standing outside the Captain's quarters, holding the mug with cinnamon. Had she already rang? She felt her heart beating quickly, panic rising and filling inside her like waves splashing in her bones.

Horrified, the doors opened and she went blank, stoic even, completely falling undone inside but refusing to show it to Kathryn. Not the woman who wouldn't even face her, look her in the eyes. Not the woman who she found herself aching for, but constantly angry with–not the woman who tasted like nothing Seven had ever known.

Kathryn stood before her, almost as shocked as Seven. "Seven…" she whispered. She regretted looking her straight in the eyes. She couldn't turn away. She felt warmth filling her cheeks, fire whipping, rising from inside her. "Sev-"

Seven, mesmerized momentarily as Kathryn locked eyes with her, blushing cheeks and all. But a movement caught her eye. She looked away from Kathryn and saw behind her, Tuvok sitting on the floor. Seven noticed Kathryn's hair, messy on one side. She looked down at her and saw her tunic had been put on haphazardly.

Kathryn looked down at the drink in Seven's hand, a metal mug with coffee and a cinnamon stick. She began to look back up the lithe woman. She understood now that she couldn't deny the hunger inside her. Seven was more beautiful than she had ever acknowledged before. Her eyes raked over Seven's body as she made her way up.

Pointing at the coffee mug in Seven's hand, she asked "What is that?"

"I am sorry if I have disturbed you."

They spoke at the same time.

"It appears that you are… occupied. I apologize for disturbing you."

Kathryn frowned, trying to understand Seven's change in tone. She slowly realized what Seven was thinking: Tuvok, the hair, the tunic.

"Seven, no–"

"I will leave you," Seven said, noticing how strange it sounded. She quickly turned on her heel and walked down the hall, taking a corner as quickly as possible to get away from Kathryn's gaze.

Kathryn stood in the doorway, her eyes falling onto the ground. She knew how it looked. She understood Seven was younger than she, much less experienced. But guilt tore inside her. She never wanted to cause her pain.

"Is everything alright?" Tuvok asked, standing behind her.

"Yes," Janeway turned around and faced him. The doors closed behind her.

"Shall we continue?"

Janeway nodded, moving to her spot on the floor once again, across from Tuvok who sat on his meditation pillow. She removed her tunic again, more comfortable in her gray under shirt and slacks.

"You must concentrate."

She looked up at Tuvok and then eyed the doors again. She tried to sit comfortably. "I can't."

Tuvok eyed the doors, "If you would like to prevent any further feelings from distracting you, you must, logically, concentrate."

"I have to go talk to her." She rose from the ground and threw on the uniform top again. "I have to, Tuvok. I know I asked you to help me, but I can't. Don't try to talk me out of it." She pleaded with him, emotion bubbling up in her eyes.

"Captain," Tuvok said as she neared the door. He stood and approached her, hands behind his back, head held high.

She turned around to face him softly blushing, "Every time I'm around her, Tuvok. Every time I look into her eyes... I can't ignore it. She makes me..." she smiled to herself, then looked back to Tuvok. "I know it doesn't make a lot of sense."

Tuvok, trying to speak her language, sized her up. She frowned. He carefully tapped his fingers on her hair, flattening it on the top and fixing the part. He looked at her haphazard uniform, took the edges of the tunic and tugged down so it fit her properly. He wiped off her shoulder and fixed the gray shirt around her neck.

"Tuck in your shirt," he demanded, "Captain."

Janeway tried her best not to smile as she tucked in her shirt around her waist. She let him examine her once more, seeing him with new eyes, filling with joy.

"I believe you are ready."

Janeway knew how he hated it, but she quickly wrapped her arms around him. He stood stiffly, eyebrows raised. She whispered, "Thank you, dear friend."

"You are welcome."

**Soon after:**

Kathryn arrived at Cargo Bay 2. She expected to find Seven of Nine promptly, but found only an empty room.

"Computer…" she stopped. She eyed the room, curious. She'd never really looked around in the cargo bay. She had watched Seven regenerate many times, standing in the dim glow of the alcove. Hours, she estimated.

But seeing the room itself, she found herself saddened. It was barely a room, definitely not a home. She touched a few of the items on Seven's workbench, smiling when she found an indentation in the table in the shape of her hand. She placed her own hand in the indentation, thinking fondly of Seven. There were many times when she found herself watching Seven. She had always assumed it was the Borg that made her so curious. And it was, but it wasn't just that, she realized as she found a small sofa that Seven had brought in. It was similar to the couch in her ready room, white, cushioned, plush.

It was hidden, Kathryn noted, from the alcove or the cargo doors. Had Seven began to sleep? How long had it been since she watched Seven regenerate? She slid her hand over the couch, wanting to touch where she might sleep now, wanting to be close to her.

She turned away from the couch. She wandered back to the alcove. Looking up at the place Seven would regenerate, she would have given anything to watch her once again, only if she were totally invisible, but she suspected Seven could feel her watching her anyway, invisible or not.

She remembered when she was just recovering from an arm injury. Seven pinned her pips onto her collar. Kathryn had lost herself in the moment. She had stared, undeniably, into Seven's eyes, glancing at her lips. In the moment, overcome with warmth and excitement, she fell silent while Seven's hands worked against her, the pips pinned properly. She had wished that Starfleet Captains had ten on each collar, which was a far swing from her regular annoyance of all collars.

Back in the cargo bay, Kathryn reached out to the alcove, touching it gently. She was drawn to it, pulled to all the things that were part of Seven. She leaned back and rested on the device, feeling tuned with Seven, being in her place. She nuzzled her back against it, taking a deep breath.

Some time later, she opened her eyes, disappointed to find the room empty. Seven hadn't watched her rest. She stepped out of the alcove heavy hearted.

"Computer, where is Seven of Nine?"

"Seven of Nine is not on board Voyager."

Kathryn narrowed her eyes, she knew Seven's tricks. She spotted a PADD on the desk and picked it up. She punched in a few codes.

"Computer, where is Seven of Nine?"

"Seven of Nine is located in the quarters of B'Elanna Torres and Tom Paris."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Seven of Nine is located in the quarters of B'Elanna Torres and Tom Paris."

She put her hands to her hips, thinking. She cocked her head, _Seven is at B'Elanna's. Are they friends? When did that happen?_

She tapped her comm, "Janeway to B'El…" She stopped short. Tapped the comm again. "Janeway to Paris."

"Paris here."

B'Elanna whacked Tom across the arm roughly. He mouthed, "what?" B'Elanna directed his attention to Seven, sitting across from them on the other side of a small table.

"What am I supposed to do?" he whispered.

Janeway's voice came through his comm, "Where are you, Tom?"

"I'm home."

A tiny moment passed before B'Elanna whacked his head with a pillow. His hair blew outward and fell back limply. The pillow slapped back in its place.

"I'm coming to you," Janeway announced.

"Acknowledged," Tom said quieter.

"Great, Tom! I just told you what's going on and–"

"What am I supposed to do?! I can't lie to the Captain."

"I love that you've changed so much, but just this once, I think it might be better–"

"No," Seven announced, rising from their sofa. "You are not permitted to lie to Kat–the Captain. It is inappropriate for you to lie. I must leave now."

"I'm going with you," B'Elanna declared strongly. "Tom, at the very least, don't bring it up, okay?"

Tom looked at Seven, seeing her in a different light, sad, vulnerable. "You have my word."

"I am in your debt," Seven nodded to him. She turned to B'Elanna, "We must go now."

The two women stood in the hallway outside B'Elanna's quarters. One direction lead to the turbolift quickly, the other took longer and required navigating many halls. Seven was just beginning to go the short way, but B'Elanna grabbed her. "No. This way," she pointed.

"That way will take longer."

"Exactly. She'll want to come the easier way." B'Elanna began walking backward.

Seven nodded and hurried along. They were nearing the first turn, though she hadn't remembered it being so far. She kept an eye over her shoulder as they walked quickly.

Seven stopped at a crossing with four directions. "Which direction do you recommend?"

B'Elanna liked the way she asked. She glanced down the hallway behind Seven and found Janeway coming down the corridor, her eyes cast down. Without thinking, B'Elanna pushed Seven roughly into the adjacent hall. Seven stumbled and caught herself before she fell.

B'Elanna tried to tell Seven what to do with her eyes, but it wasn't working. She couldn't risk speaking. Finally, the Captain nearing, she spoke.

"Captain!" B'Elanna said very loudly. Seven frowned, then realized the situation. The hall she stood in had no turns, no corners. Though it was lined with crew quarters, it was a dead end. She glanced back at B'Elanna who waved behind her back to move quickly.

Seven turned quickly and faced the last door. She knew these quarters well. Without so much as a knock, Seven entered the Wildman's quarters unexpectedly.

Janeway reached B'Elanna. "Hello, B'Elanna. I'm meeting Tom in your quarters, perhaps you should join–"

"Captain, I'm so sorry to do this, but I promised ensign Vorik I would show him the new program the Doctor wants to try to utilize as–"

Janeway held a hand up. "Have a good time," she said unenthusiastically.

"Thank you," B'Elanna said, picking a random hallway. Just before she could slip away the Captain called her again.

"B'Elanna?"

"Hm?" She turned around, afraid to hear the question.

"Have you seen Seven of Nine?"

"Me? Um," B'Elanna put a finger to her chin, trying to figure out what to say.

Janeway watched her carefully, "Please alert me if you see her. That's not an order. It's a request."

B'Elanna nodded and watched as the Captain continued on her way.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

After she waited a few minutes, B'Elanna hurried back down the hallway Seven entered. She also knew Wildman's quarters well. Naomi was precocious and had even turned B'Elanna into a friend.

"It's open," Samantha Wildman called.

"Here she is!"

Naomi perked up and ran to B'Elanna, giving her a hug. Seven sat on their sofa.

"I apologize for disturbing your evening," Seven said as she stood, to all three women in the room."

"Are you leaving?" Naomi whined.

Her mother lifted an eyebrow and the little girl gave up quickly. Seven squatted down to speak with her face to face. Naomi had responded with great excitement when Seven did this the first time and she adapted to speaking with Naomi on this level since.

"Naomi Wildman," Seven called authoritatively.

The little girl held her back straight. She put her hands behind her back and held her head high. Seven's heart soared at the simple action. A tiny human replicated her perfectly. The moment filled her with love. _Love_, she frowned, _love? _Naomi waited patiently, her mask of seriousness secured.

A small smile grew on Seven's lips. "I wish to work on a holobook with you."

Naomi looked at her with surprise, "you do?" she asked with a depth that surprised Seven. Seven felt _seen_ by the girl, spoken to with such love.

"Which one do you want to do?" the girl asked with great excitement. The little girl before her was 'beyond her years,' she understood the term properly now, witnessed first-hand.

Seven lifted a brow, "whichever you would prefer."

"I know just the one!" Naomi nodded enthusiastically.

"I look forward to that experience," Seven said.

Naomi saw a flicker of sadness wash over Seven. It affected Naomi immediately. She couldn't stand seeing her friend so blue. The little girl wrapped her arms around Seven tightly, holding her. She knew she was supposed to ask first, but she also knew Seven well enough to know that Seven would ask her to let go if she didn't like it.

But Seven didn't know what came over her. Being wrapped in someone's arms, even this tiny child's arms, it released her suddenly from her cage. It all came to the surface at once. It enveloped her-the fear, the rejection, the pain, the taste of Kathryn and the way she looked in her quarters, with Tuvok. It all came together so quickly. One moment she was somewhat uncomfortable with the sudden contact, the next she had lost her control. Tears formed quickly. She sat on the floor, sobbing in the little girls arms. B'Elanna and Samantha watched from the sidelines, both solemn, experiencing the sadness with her. Samantha wiped tears from her cheeks. B'Elanna turned her head away from them but she couldn't look away. She knew this pain well.

**A few hours later:**

A makeshift bed had been created on the Wildman's couch. Seven sat quietly, still as a pond.

Samantha leaned in the room from her bedroom, a puffy pink robe around her. She moved into the room, seeing Seven so sedate worried her. She sat across from Seven on the arm of the second couch, a clear view into Naomi's room where the little girl slept soundly.

"You know, you can tell me what happened, if you want."

Seven glanced at her then stared at a small stain on the floor again. "I believe it is best that I withhold any information that could lead to a court martial."

Samantha laughed quietly. "I know you like rules, rigid rules," Samantha smiled, "but some things aren't about whether you break the rules or don't." She shook her head, she wasn't being clear enough for Seven. "What I mean is, you're one of us now."

Seven looked up worried.

"That's a good thing," she laughed, "We're your sisters. Did you have a sister before everything happened with the Borg?"

Seven shook her head.

"Well, now you have a whole bunch of them. B'Elanna, me, Naomi, that's three right there."

Seven snorted, a smile appearing on her face.

Samantha liked to see her smile. "I know you don't want to share what happened, and that's perfectly fine," she looked at Seven reassuringly, "but you have a support group. You have all of us now. You don't have to be so far away. You don't have to put so much room between you and the rest of the world. Part of being sisters is being honest, being kind to one another, being present in each others lives. When you feel like the darkness is coming in too close, that's when you come find me or B'Elanna, like you did today." She eyed Naomi's room, "Naomi loves you, and so do I. Come here whenever you need." She rose from the arm of the couch. She walked over to Seven and kissed her on top of her head. "Good night."

Seven waited until Samantha had disappeared from the room, then called the lights down and lay on the couch. She could still feel where Samantha had kissed her. She felt like a child momentarily, loved by her mother. It was calming.

White.

The walls were white.

Seven knew where she was. She knew this room of horror too well. Everything was where it always was. She stopped in front of the whipping black curtains on cue. She saw the sea reach beyond the horizon. She saw the mug on the table. She waited until Kathryn stood before her, her entrance marked by the black curtains that clung to the edges of the doorway.

But this nightmare, Seven thought, was going to be different. She could sense it.

In a blink of an eye, Kathryn no longer stood in front of her. Seven looked about her. There, she found Kathryn, on the bed. Kathryn was in her own bed in the Captain's quarters, not the dream bed. She knew somehow this was real. Kathryn, in an oversized black shirt, lay on the bed with a PADD propped on a pillow in front of her. Seven stayed in the darkness of the room, watching carefully to avoid being discovered.

Kathryn took the PADD and suddenly threw it across the room. It crashed against the wall and broke into a few pieces. Seven stepped backward, further into the dark. She hadn't seen Kathryn exhibit such anger so unexpectedly.

Kathryn closed her eyes, sticking one hand under her head as she lay back. "I'm sorry," she voiced quietly.

"I'm sorry," she said again, quieter, "I don't know what to do." She put her other arm over her eyes, blocking the dim light in the room. She finally turned on her side, facing away from where Seven listened.

Seven came into the light quietly. She walked around the bed and sat with her feet touching the cool ground beneath her. She moved the bed a little, testing whether or not Kathryn could see or feel her. Confident she was undetectable, she lay on her side and stared across the bed at Kathryn. She drew closer to her, inch by inch.

She lay close to Kathryn's body, just shy of touching her. She studied the redhead sleeping in front of her, beside her, wondering if Kathryn could sense that she was there with her, watching her rest.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

A few hours earlier:

Janeway stood in front of B'Elanna and Tom's quarters. She chimed the bell. A few worrying moments passed. She placed her hands on her hips, debating whether she could ethically ask the computer to locate Tom, but in the next moment she knew she couldn't, not when this concerned a personal matter. She bit her lip, trying to hold back a panic rising inside. _What am I doing?_ She pinched her nose. _I can't go about the ship like this. I'm the Capt-_

"Captain."

She turned around on her heels and found Tom standing in the doorway.

"Captain?" concern in his voice.

She wondered how long he'd been standing there. "Mr. Paris," she said tightly from her throat, "May I?"

He moved aside and welcomed her in.

_This is bad. What are you doing? Stop this. Just stop._ Janeway walked past Tom and B'Elanna's small dining table and looked out the window into space.

Tom sat in his favorite plush chair, waiting patiently, eyeing her abashedly.

"Tom," Janeway started. _Why did her voice sound so far away? _She cleared her throat. "I would like to ask you a few questions."

He grimaced openly to her back.

"I'm not here as your Captain." _What was she saying?_ "You don't have to answer anything. Do you understand?" her voice was soft, hot against the glass.

"I understand," Tom admitted solemnly.

Kathryn turned around to face him. The room was dim, a fact she was thankful for. Only a streak of bright light from another room slashed across her waist, but otherwise, the dark gray light protected her. She was relieved by the cover for such a task. Better to keep her dishonor in darkness.

"Was she here?" Her voice light years away, muted, pinched.

Tom remained still. He couldn't see her expression and he didn't want to. He understood all too well what Seven was experiencing, and although he and Seven hadn't always seen eye to eye, he realized as he sat before his Captain that he was feeling protective of Seven. He couldn't break her trust.

Kathryn waited but understood after a few moments that he wouldn't answer her question. She accepted his silence, even appreciated it for Seven's sake, but she needed more information. She put her hands on her hips again and looked at the ground deep in thought. "Maybe—maybe we're going about this the wrong way. Maybe instead, I can ask you a hypothetical question."

She paced a few moments, Tom watching her go back and forth across a small space. He was loyal to her, he had the utmost respect for her, but Seven had come to B'Elanna in need of help, and then to him. He couldn't lie to the Captain but revealing how Seven was or what she had said—he couldn't do that either. He could only walk the line best he could, and pray that B'Elanna wouldn't hit him with the stone bat'leth he had given to her as an anniversary gift. _Give a hothead a weapon? What was he thinking?_

Kathryn stopped in the center of the window. "If there had been a guest here, besides you and B'Elanna, was this person upset?"

Tom breathed slowly then deliberately bowed his head once.

Kathryn nodded. "Was this person upset at… the Captain?"

Tom shut down a smile that wanted to form at the way she tried to distance herself. He reached for a glass on the table in front of him and Kathryn noticed a metal mug with a stick of cinnamon.

Tom sipped his water. "Very."

_Very? She was angry,_ Kathryn thought, _not upset._

She knew she shouldn't go any further with the questions. She knew it would be best to keep her mouth shut and excuse herself quickly. But she needed to know... She had never taken Tom into her confidence like this before, but he had always worked hard for her, impressed her when he could. He had proven himself to her on many occasions.

_Did this conversation make him lose respect for her? _Sadness began to fill her chest.

"Um," she choked. She quickly turned around and looked out the window, tears falling down her cheeks. _Don't, Kathryn. Stop this. Suck it up. You're the Captain. You are a Starfleet officer. You are the master and commander. You have a duty. One duty. _To return her people home after her greatest mistake. The mistake that followed her around like a dark shadow, always pulling her further away from those around her. The distance was palpable. She could see her crew around her, her officers in the inner circle. But when she reached out to touch one, just to feel touch, to feel warmth, they became shadows and whirled away. She reached out desperately around her as her entire crew billowed away in puffs of black smoke. Breathing hard, terrified, alone in darkness, she suddenly felt the warmth of another body near her. Turning around slowly, afraid of who stood behind her, she could smell her before she saw her. Seven, standing in front of her, her blue eyes focused on her own. Frightened she would disappear at the touch, Kathryn reached out hesitantly, her hand moving through viscous air thick as tar, reaching her fingers outward to Seven's cheek—

"Captain?" Tom said again, standing beside her by the window.

She jumped. The thought wiped from her mind instantly. "Yes," she croaked.

He had never seen her so far away. "If you need anything," he began, awkwardly putting his hand on her shoulder.

She turned away from him so that he couldn't see her face to face. She quickly wiped the salty water from her cheeks as she headed for the door. "Thank you, Lt. Paris." She stopped in the doorway, turning only her head back, "I would appreciate your discretion." She left swiftly, powering through the hallway to the turbolift.

"Good night, Captain," Tom said quietly to himself.

Back in her own quarters, she was relieved to have made it with no run-ins. She leaned against the wall as she entered her bedroom. How had things become such a mess? It was her fault. She knew it. She could have stopped Seven as soon as she touched her hair. She could have stopped her after she kissed her the first time. She could have sat her down and explained that while it was… pleasurable, she didn't feel that way about Seven. She didn't!

She put her hands over her face. A few tears fell again but she refused to let them fall for long. She shook her head. _No._ She did not and would not and would never. Seven was mistaken about _them_.

She stripped off her uniform and threw on an oversized black shirt, one of her favorites, and laid down on the bed. "I'm sorry," she said aloud.

In a matter of minutes she turned on her side and fell away into sleep.

Startlingly awake, Kathryn sat up in the morning. She looked next to her, nearly expecting someone to be beside her. She looked around the room suspiciously but found everything as she had left it the night before, like her uniform, splayed on the floor. She turned back and looked at the place she swore she had felt a presence, the spot on the bed beside her. She reached out and lightly touched the black sheets, anxiously anticipating the spot to be warm.

It was cold to the touch.

She turned away.

Walking around the bed she gathered her uniform from the floor. "Computer, how long until my shift begins?"

"Your shift begins in 28 minutes, 15 seconds."

She pulled her jumpsuit on, tossing her black shirt on the bed. She eyed the tee momentarily, examining her bed from where she stood. One side of the large bed was lived in, used, messy, her domain, but a moment of heaviness fell over her as she regarded the other half. It was undoubtedly empty, tidy, cold. She bowed her head, her mind plunged below a deep ocean.

"Tuvok to Janeway."

She took a breath coming up from the deep, "Janeway here."

"Please come to the bridge at your earliest convenience."

"Acknowledged." She glanced at the bed once more and moved on with her day.

On the bridge, dressed and proper, Janeway entered and stood by her command seat. Chakotay sat in his chair, "Captain."

She smiled, half cocked, as she turned around and looked down at him.

"No coffee?" he asked.

"I was just on my way when Tuvok called. Though, it doesn't look like there's anything going on."

Tuvok turned around and spoke from his station, "I apologize if I've bothered you, Captain."

She leaned against his computer station. "So?"

He raised his eyebrows at her, surprised by her chipper demeanor. "It seems some of the bridge staff would like to propose a question to you. They debated for a long period of time attempting to decide which would approach you. I grew tired of their indecision." He tilted his head, indicating to look behind her.

Frowning now, but amused, she turned and found Tom and Harry whispering to each other. She placed her hands on her hips and waited. For a split fraction of a second she felt a twinge of fear that this somehow related to the night before, but she briskly cast off the thought.

Harry finally gestured for Tom to stop. The two men, suddenly looking like two boys asking their mother for permission, looked to her with heads slightly bowed.

"Yes?" She asked. The bridge had grown quiet, except for Tuvok who worked diligently. Everyone else, even Chakotay, watched while pretending to do work. Janeway smiled to herself–they weren't a subtle crew, when they didn't want to be.

"Captain," Harry began and then fell silent.

Janeway raised her eyebrows and stepped in front of him, "I hoped we would be able to finish this conversation before lunch. I haven't had my coffee yet, Mr. Kim. Let's get to the point."

Tom elbowed Harry. Once again Harry took a breath and continued, "Of course, Captain. We were wondering if you've come to a decision about shore leave." He tried to smile but it came across as a grimace.

Janeway turned to Tuvok, and he spoke without turning from his station, "The planet they wish to visit is 45 minutes from our location."

"And," she moved to the center of the bridge again. "What do we know about the culture?"

"We do not have any information, except for what the crew believes to be accurate, from the Brenari trader."

She smiled, quietly entertained, "You don't trust him?"

"It would be unwise to trust the trader based on his word alone."

"Agreed," she nodded once. "What do we know about the planet itself?"

Tuvok continued, "It is an M class planet. Low population. Namely an oceanic planet, however it has many small land masses-"

"Islands," Tom tried to say under his breath but found it had come out louder than he hoped. He kept his eyes glued to his station.

"Have we received any hails?"

"None."

"Chakotay," she turned around, "Take a team down when we reach the planet. Take Mr. Paris, since he seems to have an affinity for islands," she simpered. She turned to Tuvok, "this may be a good trip for Ensign McGuire, if he's still looking to move up."

Tuvok nodded. He pressed his comm to communicate with the ensign while she turned back to the crew. "Let's not share this information until we're sure the planet is safe."

The crew acknowledged her and went back to work. Chakotay stood in front of her, "I would like to bring Seven of Nine as well."

She wanted to ask why but thought it better to resist, especially since she could feel Tuvok and Tom glance at her when they heard Seven's name. She nodded to Chakotay.

"Now I'm going to get some coffee," she waved as she disappeared into the turbolift. Standing in the lift, she felt good all of a sudden. She liked that the crew were excited for a break and she knew everyone worked so hard. They deserved a break and it didn't matter whether or not she joined them.

Shore leave for her was the momentary relief in her guilt.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Chakotay, Ensign McGuire, Tom and Seven stepped out of the shuttle one after the other. The two suns above poured warmth on them. The cool air swirled. Relaxed waves flowed in and out. Tom was gleeful as he grabbed a handful of warm tan sand.

Seven stepped onto the sand warily. Tom smiled, "Ever been to an island?"

"No," she stated flatly.

He laughed, "You have to get used to it. Look at that view." He pointed at the glistening sea. "Smell that air." He took in a big whiff. "Feel the tension slowly leave your body under the warm sun…" He held his head up with a giant grin, eyes closed, joyous in his personal heaven.

Seven remained still as she watched him impassively. A moment passed. She raised her eyebrows. Finally, he opened his eyes and checked if she had gotten into the spirit–she hadn't. He shrugged with a dopey grin, "I tried!" He followed the path Chakotay and McGuire made in the sand.

She turned to examine the sea, even raising her head in an attempt to feel the "calming warmth" Tom had prattled on about. Looking up at the blue sky a sense of relief came over her. Somewhere above, out of sight, Kathryn was there, commanding her crew and leading her community. At this hour, she would be reading a PADD, sitting at her desk. A mug of warm coffee in close range. She would hold her hair up and stretch her neck.

A tarp caught in the wind and slapped against the shuttle. In a flash, Seven could see the black curtains in the white room of her dream. The metal mug on the table. Kathryn standing before her with a wily expression, walking toward her with the wind blowing around them both. The redhead would press a hand to her lapels, commenting on how it was one of her favorite tops. Kathryn would wrap her arms around her neck, lips coming up for her, warm and soft against her own.

"Seven!" Tom called over the wind. She found him waving for her catch up. She glanced up at the sky and then proceeded to follow.

They walked away from the ocean, the sand turning to larger and larger pieces of stone. They traversed up a rocky hill, lugging cases for biological samples and other various supplies. Chakotay was overly precautious, Seven thought, on many occasions, but from time to time they would make use of the excess materials. Still, she found their slow pace agonizing. Energy burned inside her and she needed to release it.

She quickly took the lead, passing the ensign and Tom from far behind. She informed Chakotay as she blazed past him that she would scout it out first, and then disappeared beyond the line of the inland green jungle at the top of the cliff.

Chakotay stopped, out of breath and sweating at the precipice. He looked down to find McGuire drenched in sweat as he just began his ascent. Tom was nearly as bad, not even halfway up. Chakotay took a large swig of his water. He turned back to eye the jungle from afar, noting the place Seven had disappeared into the thick.

As soon as she made it into the jungle, she began to run. Heart pounding, she pushed through the green vegetation. She needed to push herself. She ran harder, breaking parts of thick, healthy trunks as if they were dry and brittle, while she flew through the tangled vines and knobby trees.

_How useless are these humans_, she thought as she flew. _They're no Borg._ That was the point, wasn't it–why the Captain wanted the human experience for her. _Why? What an awful existence to be human! To be trapped inside a frail frame. To be winded at the least amount of exertion. To be trapped inside a body with its own distinct needs, uncontrollable by logic. It was pointless. Maddening! _It was imperfection and it filled her with such pounded across the jungle floor, feeling animalistic as she pushed off trees and leapt with great power and grace. She needed to release, she needed to let go, but steam only grew inside her with no escape.

Even as her foot caught a piece of a large rock, as she flew through the jungle descending over a long distance, she felt it wasn't enough. She wasn't relieved of the itch that drove her. Rolling and bouncing off the jungle floor, she grabbed a thick trunk to slow her tumble, but the wood split as she soared by and left her unrestrained–plummeting.

She saw the massive tree ahead of her. In a split second she was thrown into it with an enormous thud. On the ground, sprawled at the base of the tree, she touched one hand to her nose and examined her hand. She glimpsed blood, wet and thick. Losing consciousness, her body went limp.

Time drifted by in momentary bits of consciousness. The sun was up, then darkness. Then sun again. A noise. _Chakotay?_ Darkness.

She opened her eyes for a second to find blurry movement around her somewhere. Someone shook her but she couldn't feel it. A clearer image came as she looked in front of her–there was a creature.

A person, not ten feet in front of her. She reached her hand out but lost consciousness again. Then suddenly, her eyes open, Chakotay was in her face speaking in a deep tone. She frowned. His face contorted and when he moved around, looking around them, it was as if she could only see every other second around her, everything choppy in time.

A loud noise. A high pitched ringing. She saw herself move but felt nothing.

"It's okay!" Chakotay yelled as he carried her, running as fast as he could through the jungle, glancing behind them.

As Seven studied the sky above, her eyes rolled back and she lost consciousness once again.

On board the bridge, Janeway sat in her chair and tapped her fingers nervously. Harry anxiously pressed buttons at his station. Tuvok continued to scan the planet, despite it not working, as he had disclosed to the Captain more than once.

"How long has it been?" the Captain asked again.

"It has been five minutes since you last asked the same question," Tuvok said tightly.

Janeway rose from her chair, "That's not what I meant."

He bowed his head, "It has been twelve hours since our last communication with the away team."

She tapped her fingers on the consol now, her mind buzzing. "I'm going down." She stated.

"That would not be advisable, Captain. We have no way of extricating yourself or the away team. We don't have any information on weather, temperature or life forms."

"We literally have nothing," Harry chimed in, ceasing his anxiety driven activity.

Janeway eyed Harry and Tuvok. They both watched her carefully, awaiting her final decision. "Two more hours. If we don't hear anything by then, I'm going down." She eyed Tuvok as she moved to the turbolift. "Keep me updated."

"Captain?" Harry asked wantingly.

"I'll see to the rescue mission myself."

Harry understood–the Captain was flying solo.

Janeway entered the turbolift and exited on the next deck. Walking down the hall, she tapped her comm badge. "Janeway to B'Elanna."

"Yes, Captain."

"Cargo bay 2, now."

A few moments passed. Janeway eyed her badge waiting for confirmation. Just as she went to press it, B'Elanna's voice came over, "Acknowledged."

"Janeway to Neelix."

"Hello, Captain!"

"Please meet me in cargo bay 2 immediately."

"I'll be right there!"

Suddenly feeling strange about meeting everyone at cargo bay 2, and wanting to avoid being there first, she stopped at her quarters. When she reached bay 2, twenty minutes later, she found both Neelix and B'Elanna speaking quietly to each other.

She announced herself as she reached them, but couldn't help but suspect they may have been talking about Seven, or her, or both. _Who knew how many people knew at this point._

"Captain!" Neelix rejoiced loudly. B'Elanna squinted at the loud salutation, innately disturbed by his relentless high spirit.

"Captain," B'Elanna said precisely with an edge.

Neelix gave her a glance at her weird tone but ignored it promptly. "What can I do to help?"

Janeway looked at him questioningly.

"News travels fast," Neelix whispered loudly.

She frowned and looked toward B'Elanna. _Had she broken Seven's confidence? Had she told Neelix of her personal matter?_

"I think what Neelix means," B'Elanna made eye contact with Janeway, "is that everyone's heard that the away team has been out of reach."

Janeway turned to Neelix and watched as he agreed. _He didn't know about Seven. B'Elanna hadn't told him. _She met B'Elanna's eyes once again, this time soft, apologetic.

"So what are we doing?" B'Elanna inquired.

"I would like help from both of you. B'Elanna, I need you to prepare the engines for fast take off. As soon as I get them back on board, we may need to leave immediately. I also want you to work on a comm with heightened distance. I can use Morse code, something simple that can penetrate signal blockers." She turned toward Neelix but B'Elanna interrupted.

"Am I dismissed?"

"No," Janeway said and then faced Neelix. "I need any information you can find about this planet. Look through all the records. Talk to the crew. I have two hours before I'm going there myself. Do your best, Neelix."

"Aye, Captain!" He said and hurried around her and out of the bay. She watched him leave and smiled. He was someone she was grateful for, one of the people that eased the guilt every so often.

It was nice to smile for a moment, warmth returning to her face. She didn't realize how tense she had been, holding her muscles tight in anxiety since Seven had… Fear coursed through as she thought of Seven on the planet, perhaps lost, or worse. Smile gone, she turned around to speak with B'Elanna, body rigid and uncomfortable once again.

B'Elanna stood at the workbench touching and examining the random metal pieces. She glanced up at the Captain as she stood across bench.

B'Elanna examined a strange device made of dented metal. "What is it?"

"You tell me."

B'Elanna set the item down carefully. "That's not what I meant."

Janeway nodded. _She knows what I let happen, how I screwed up. _"I-" She glanced past her and locked her eyes on the alcove. Sadness amplified in her. _No_. She turned around quickly, putting her back to B'Elanna. _Keep it together._

"She said you put your back to her, too. Tom didn't tell me much, but I think you did the same to him, like you're doing to me." B'Elanna spoke evenly.

Kathryn felt the tears welling, but she hardened her jaw and tried to force them away.

B'Elanna shook her head, "So what, you're ashamed of her?"

Kathryn frowned. _Ashamed?_

"I know it's not because she's Borg. And she is a bit serious, but I think you like that. She can't tell a joke very well, but she has some dry humor. She's six feet tall, blonde and gorgeous… You _like _all of those qualities, don't you?" B'Elanna grabbed another strange metal object. "So it's because she's a woman? ...Sounds like you're ashamed of yourself, and you decided to take it out on one of your favorites–like she means so little to you."

Kathryn turned around quickly, concern washing over her. "Is that what she thinks?" She whispered. "That I'm ashamed? Of her?" She laughed sadly to herself. "I'm not ashamed, B'Elanna," she rasped, "I lo–."

Tears fell from her eyes but she roughly wiped it away. "I shouldn't be talking to you like this," she shook her head.

B'Elanna set the metal object down on the table. She hated being so open, hated not being seen as a fueled-by-fire powerhouse, but it was necessary, and a lesson the Captain needed to learn for herself. Sighing, she admitted, "She didn't tell me anything."

Kathryn looked to her quickly.

"She implied certain things, but whatever happened between the two of you, she hasn't told anyone. She came to me upset. But she didn't tell me anything in detail. She said it wouldn't be right, that by doing so she would break your confidence and your trust. And now I'm breaking mine for you. You do what you think is best, but try not to hurt her. Seven is one of us now."

Kathryn observed her with eyebrows raised. _Did B'Elanna Torres just say Seven was one of 'us'?_

B'Elanna remained serious. "Am I dismissed, Captain?"

Kathryn nodded, her eyes cast down.

"I hope you bring everyone back. My fiance is down there, if you forgot." She walked out of cargo bay 2.

Kathryn looked up at the ceiling, shame sinking in. _How had she forgotten that B'Elanna had a large stake in the rescue?_ This was the exact problem. This was why she could never… not with anyone. She had a job to do, and that included the safety of every soul in her care.

She moved away from the workbench, running her finger along the edge. She stood in front of the alcove and looked up at it. Had it been that long ago when she watched Seven regenerate?

She watched her more than Seven knew. When she couldn't sleep, she would make her way to cargo bay 2 and stand by her as she regenerated.

She stood in her normal spot almost as if Seven was going to walk in and regenerate at any second.

She smiled to herself as she remembered once, after drinking two too many whiskeys, how she stood in front of Seven while she regenerated. She had lightly touched her shoulder, unsure whether or not she would wake or feel it. She hadn't. Standing in front of her, gazing at her, she ran her fingers along her jaw and hairline, and over her lips. She'd watched her tenderly–gotten too close to doing something she'd regret.

Janeway shook the memory. _No. _She backed away from the alcove, her smile fading and a hardness growing over her. She paused, studying the room one last time, a last visit, before disappearing behind the cargo bay 2 doors.

Walking down the hall, her heart beating in her chest, she forced her mind to focus. _Save the away team. Bring them back to Voyager. Take everyone home to the Alpha Quadrant. Simple, direct and the only objective she was allowed to focus on._

xXxXxXxXx

"Tuvok to Janeway."

She tapped her badge. "Any word?"

"Nothing, Captain," Tuvok responded.

"Headed to shuttlebay 1. Is everything ready?"

Harry came over the comm, "Yes, Captain. Neelix's notes are on the shuttle. B'Elanna will meet you there."

She swung into the shuttlebay and found B'Elanna standing by the shuttle.

"What do you have for me?" Janeway asked briskly.

B'Elanna handed her a comm badge, "You can try this. There's no audio either way, but you can try to use code. No idea if it'll work."

Janeway nodded and slipped it into her pocket. "And the engines?"

"All set up."

Janeway eyed the area around them. Two ensigns had their backs to them as they checked consoles. She put her hand on B'Elanna's arm. "I'm bringing him back."

B'Elanna's expression softened, "Good luck." She turned and left the shuttlebay.

Janeway swung into the shuttle, noting the one-page note from Neelix that listed everything they knew–a whole lot of nothing.

"Do you require any assistance?" Tuvok asked over the comm.

"Just one thing," she said as she began pressing the controls. "You have the bridge, Tuvok. Take care of her. I'll be back soon. Janeway out."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 **

Seven woke with a start. She sat up wildly scanning the area around her, breathing hard. _Where was she, what happened, how much time had gone by? _She turned to look behind her and found Chakotay bringing a bundle of dried logs toward her. She barely noticed the campfire in front of her.

He glanced at her and did a double take, "You're awake!" He tossed the logs down and came around to her, and examined her face. "Looks like things are healing well. How are you?"

She touched her face. Her nose had been broken and she winced as she touched it. "I do not know."

Chakotay smiled, "It looks like you hit that tree pretty hard."

He helped her sit up. Sitting on the brown dirt, she leaned against a log. "What happened?" She rasped.

"You tell me," he said, indicating her nose, "As for the rest of it… This planet is not what we hoped it would be."

"Clarify."

He sat on the log adjacent from her. "It changes. Yesterday this whole area was a desert."

"Yesterday?"

He nodded carefully. "It's been 3 days since we came down from Voyager."

She frowned–it couldn't be possible. "Where are Ensign McGuire and Lt. Paris?"

Chakotay grew quiet again, placing another two sticks into the fire. "I haven't seen them in 3 days. Not since the storm."

She watched him with a frown.

With a sigh he continued, "It came out of nowhere. You had gone into the jungle, maybe 20, 30 minutes before the storm hit. Tom and McGuire were still climbing. The rain was coming down from all directions, the wind was brutal." He shook his head in disbelief. "Lightning, or something like it, started striking around me on top of the cliff. I didn't have a choice… It was pure luck that I found you. Here," he handed her his water thermos. "It's boiled."

She took large gulps of it. The cool water coated her throat and she felt a part of her mind come back. She pulled her lips away and breathed heavily. "Why am I not well if I have only damaged my nose?"

Chakotay tightened his lips. "When you took your fall, you broke your leg. I numbed it with the medical supplies I had on me, but we're running out of supplies very quickly... including the nutritional rations." He rose quickly and startled her. "If the planet would give us a minute to think, we may be able to find a way to communicate with Voyager!" He yelled into the sky. Nothing responded–no voices, birds or living creature. He slumped back down on the log.

Seven avoided looking down at her leg underneath a Mylar blanket. She did not want to know how bad her damage was. "Surely Voyager has sent a rescue team. We must move closer to the shuttle so we can ensure they will find us."

Chakotay shook his head, saving her life and caring for her for days and she still tried to give commands like she was the superior officer. "It's a nice thought, but the shuttle is _long _gone. And that beach has been the most dangerous place yet."

"Clarify."

"It seems to be the epicenter. I pulled you along in a makeshift bed all the way back to the clearing," he glanced at the sled-like contraption made from large green leaves, vines and branches. "But when we arrived at the clearing on the second day, a volcano had appeared. I called for Tom and McGuire, but we couldn't stay. If we hadn't left when we did…"

Seven thought of how far she had run into the jungle, sprinting with every fibre of her being. Chakotay had gone a long way into the jungle and brought her all the way back. It would've been an arduous task, if not deadly. She gave him a small smile, "Thank you. I would surely be deceased otherwise."

He tried to smile, "I don't know if you've ever thanked me before."

She regarded him kindly with a sort of tired, half smile, and then returned her attention to the fire. She grew tired, her eyes heavy.

"Get some more rest," he told her and helped lay her down once again. He moved back to the log and pulled out his comm badge to play with the settings, his new past time. He was no engineer, but he couldn't just sit with his thoughts doing nothing.

Seven slept fitfully by the fire. Dark images haunted her. She was back in the cube. She was herself, more human than drone, in an alcove regenerating beside dozens of others. Across from her she found a familiar face regenerating in her own alcove.

"Kathryn…"

She waited as a group of drones walked by in a file. She eyed the area and then quickly went across the way to Kathryn. She turned off the machine. Kathryn looked down at her from her alcove.

"Kathryn?" Seven's hand shook as she reached out, wanting to touch the little bit of her face that hadn't been made mechanical. The drone pushed past her unchangeably, turned and began to follow the direction the other drones had gone.

"Kathryn… Please… Kathryn!"

The drone continued on with no response.

Several Borg stepped out of their alcoves and surrounded Seven. She felt herself giving up, watching with tears as her Captain marched away. "Kathryn…"

"Seven," a hand rested on her shoulder. Her eyes opened quickly, her pupils dilated. Chakotay stood over her.

"Are you ok? You were talking in your sleep."

"I am fine," she rose to a sitting position, relieved when Chakotay lifted his hand from her shoulder. _B'Elanna was right, it did matter who touched you and who didn't. It wasn't just purely physiology when it came to love._

"Want to tell me about the dream? I didn't even know you could dream."

She ignored him and looked around her. She found they were now inside a massive cave. The mouth as large as four shuttles in both directions and the jungle gone, a forest in its place.

"How did we come to be here?"

"I fell asleep in the early morning," he said, walking toward the mouth of the cave. "We didn't move, but everything around us did. Lucky a tar pit didn't show up, or a frozen lake or an ocean–"

"We must devise a way to contact Voyager."

"Don't you think I know that!" Chakotay snapped. He ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry."

She ignored his outburst. "Perhaps we should move to higher ground."

"I've been wracking my brain trying to figure out how, Seven! We could climb the highest peak, somehow make it there, and then end up in a cave in a matter of minutes." He snapped his fingers. "And Seven, ex-Borg or not, you can't walk with a broken leg, let alone climb."

She observed how distraught he was, tired and dirty, and no doubt lonely as she had spent more time asleep than awake. She thought of when she had lost all the voices inside her head and how isolated it had made her feel.

She was strong, and he needed her to be strong. "I will construct…" she looked for the word, "crutches."

He shook his head with a scoff. This ex-Borg wasn't giving up, so he couldn't either. "It's going to be extremely painful."

"Perhaps, but we will surely die here if we cannot contact Voyager or any inhabitants."

"There's no life here," he said lowly, "I haven't seen a single creature. No mammals, no birds. Not even an ant. This planet is uninhabitable. If people lived here once, they don't any more."

She accepted his analysis. "Then we must contact Voyager."

He grabbed a slew of vines he'd collected from before and gave them to her. "I'll bring you what you need to make crutches. We can use this to tie to each other, just in case. Can you knot them together?"

She inclined her head, "That is an optimal strategy."

He half smiled, "Be back soon."

She watched him disappear into the bright day outside the cave. She placed both hands firmly on the ground and attempted to lift herself. Her arms shook and she lowered herself once more. _You are Borg. _On her second attempt, she was able to lift high enough to move her good leg under herself. Grabbing onto the boulder beside her, she pulled herself up onto one foot.

She scanned the room with no avail. Looking down at her arm, she used her exoskeleton hand and ripped part of her biosuit sleeve off. She placed the strip of material in her mouth, folding it over itself to create a cushion between her teeth.

Without hesitation, she gently set her other foot down on the hard rock. Pain shot through her like streaks of spraying magma. She bit down on the cloth. A muffled scream came from deep inside her. She refused to acquiesce and stubbornly kept her bad leg resting against the rock floor. She breathed heavily through her nose as the pain dimmed into an excruciating ache. She spit the cloth from her mouth. A determined scowl grew across her face. The taste of blood was in her mouth. Her leg throbbed.

She could do this.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Chakotay sat beside the fire on the dark evening. Day four had come and gone. The weather and planet, he noted, had returned them to a tropical island. There was salt in the cool air. He found a place for he and Seven to sleep, just outside the edge of the jungle on the beach. He'd collected petrified wood and began the fire. He arranged a few logs around so that they could both rest against them, one for him and an adjacent one for her. He periodically checked the vine he tied to the palm-like tree that covered their new site between tasks. His head burned and his body begged for rest, but he couldn't consider it until Seven made it to camp.

Seven made her way slowly. The forest had gone and in its place the jungle returned. She moved slowly over vines and roots. She stopped counting how many times she'd fallen. One fall caused her to let out a scream, but to her relief Chakotay had such a lead on her that he didn't hear it. It took her twenty minutes before she could try to move an inch after that fall.

She showed up to camp just as night began to fall. Chakotay set down his fire poker and helped her to sit down on large palm fronds he laid out. She thanked him quietly as he set her crutches near her and sat in front of the fire against his own log. She looked over at him as she breathed through the pain shooting through her body. The pain she had felt earlier by touching her nose was now a joke—pain had a new meaning.

Chakotay grabbed another palm leaf that he had sealed with vines. "Dinner," he said. He opened the leaf and a pile of berries spilled out on the fronds between them.

They ate quietly for awhile but neither seemed to be hungry. The suns had fallen beyond the horizon and the sky was a sparkly black. Stars shined through mutely. The cool breeze carried across the beach and through them. Seven slipped the Mylar blanket around her, and Chakotay added a few sticks to the fire.

"Can I ask you something?" Chakotay inquired and broke the natural lullaby around them. His throat was raw and he took a swig of his water. He held it up to offer to Seven but she refused.

"You are permitted to ask your question, commander."

Chakotay laughed and Seven turned to him with an eyebrow raised. "Seven," he grumbled. "We have been lost for 5, nearly 6 days, on a planet that is literally trying to kill us, with very low likely of rescue or survival."

She waited for him to continue, _what's the point?_

"Chakotay is fine. I think you can drop the 'commander.'"

Seven inclined. "Chakotay," she said awkwardly. "What is your question?"

He grinned to himself, unwilling to look at her directly. "When the Captain went back for you on the Borg ship… I'm sure you've read the records… You know I didn't support her. I actually thought she was completely wrong. She was going to risk the lives of all our people for a Borg who never seemed to want to be on Voyager in the first place."

Seven played with a small piece of a leaf in her lap.

"I've always wondered–do you think she did the right thing? Going back for you at the risk of everyone?"

Seven ceased playing with the leaf. "No." She met his eyes. "I would not have made the same decision."

He thought as much–_it was illogical what Janeway had done, and Seven usually responded to logic first_. "But," he added, "She did it anyway. And if she had a choice, she would do it again, the same way, every time." He took in a deep breath as he added a stick to the fire. He spoke quietly, nearly to himself, "The thing about the Captain is she's constantly at war with Kathryn."

Seven frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Captain Janeway was the one who made the decision about the Caretaker, you know who the Caretaker is?" He saw her nod in his peripheral vision. "Kathryn didn't have much say in it."

Perplexed, she responded, "You are no longer making sense. Perhaps you should consume more water and sustenance." She glanced at the remaining berries between them.

Chakotay laughed again, "I'm not delirious, Seven!"

She thought he seemed to be exhibiting exactly that sort of behavior...

"What I'm saying is," he emphasized, "Kathryn is a sensitive person. She's thoughtful and mischievous in the most captivating ways... But Captain Janeway is tenacious, brawny. She commands her people _and _she treats them with love, and she kicks them into action, even going with them when they're too afraid to go it alone. _She _is the one who made a difficult decision in a difficult situation. It's her that got us here, and it's her who must suffer the guilt every single day. She _must _put her crew before herself. She _must_–it's a punishment she's infringed on herself… It's..."

Seven watched him closely, examining every bit of his expression, tone and body language. What was it that he wanted to say, she had to know. "What?" she spoke softly.

"The Captain believes that Kathryn does not deserve to be happy," Chakotay conceded.

Seven felt her breath zapped from her lungs. Her mind raced through the evidence, trying to confirm or disprove his statement through evaluating her eidetic memory.

_It makes sense, _she thought. _It made a lot of sense. _Why Kathryn had turned her back to her, why Kathryn avoided her, and why the Captain was able to go about her duties as normal.

Seven tilted her head up to the sky. How had she missed it? Why couldn't she see it before, when it was right there staring in her face? Kathryn was trapped inside of herself… _How could she reach her?_ She lowered her head again and thought hard. What could she do to show her that she deserved to be happy?

One thought gradually crept its way to the top as she contemplated. The thought brought her the desolating notion that had affected her before the trip to the forsaken planet they would most likely die on: they could not be together because Kathryn was already involved with someone else. She sighed softly, a sadness came over her. She was glad that Kathryn was finding happiness, but to never be that close to her again—she thought of the kisses she placed on Kathryn's muscles and neck, the way she felt inside her hair, breathing her in… the way they both had been covered in goosebumps—the ache inside her—Kathryn's red hair—her heart pounding in her own ears—her instinct propelling her—her tongue against Kathryn's skin—

"I also have a question," she said softly into the night air, unsure how long it had been since she and Chakotay had last spoken.

He lifted his head from his chest. "Yeah?"

"Chakotay," she said uncomfortably, specifically leaving out 'commander.' "You have indicated that since there is a high probably of us failing to be rescued or surviving, it would be acceptable to speak with you as a… confidant."

He nodded, partially out of it.

She continued, "However, if we are to be rescued, wouldn't this informal conversation then become problematic since we would both be required to record these details in a formal report available to authorized staff?"

"Seven, I don't want to think about this experience, let alone write about it in detail. If we get out of here alive, my report will say two words: we survived." He held up two fingers then let his hand fall clumsily to the ground.

She held her head high, mustering up bravery. "As you are a close friend of both Kathryn and the Captain, I wonder if you have ever… witnessed a past or present mate."

He raised his eyebrows as he leaned back and stared off into nothing.

Seven remained still, though her leg throbbed less than her heart as she waited for his reply.

"I can't, and won't, say a whole lot. As a friend and as her first officer, I can't. Fair warning," he grumbled through a hoarse voice. "What _exactly _do you want to know?"

She delivered the question quickly in one breath, "Has she mated with any other commanders aboard Voyager?"

He raised his eyebrows again with a chortle."I can't answer that."

She knew it would be unfair to learn such things from anyone besides Kathryn. "That is understandable." But she couldn't let it go completely. "I have an additional question."

"Shoot." He perked up a little and tossed tiny pebbles into the fire.

"Has she already claimed her mate?"

_Looking to put your name in the hat? _"Not that I know of."

Seven opened her mouth to ask the next, hard question, but shut her lips again. She considered that she may die soon and the not knowing would make her death unbearable.

"What of Tuvok?"

Chakotay looked at her quickly. A big smile covered his face. "Tuvok?!" He laughed, hitting his knee.

Seven watched him with pursed lips.

"Forgive me!" he went on nearly uncontrollably. "Tuvok is to Kathryn as Neelix's food is to your mouth!"

She was suddenly more worried about him, he seemed increasingly giddy and emotional, unlike his normal, calm demeanor.

He caught his breath and grew serious again, coming back to himself, "Tuvok is one of her oldest friends. They've always had mutual respect, and they've shared two ships now. He probably knows her better than she does herself. But _mating_…" he grimaced and scoffed. "No."

She noted how he seemed to come back and forth to reality. Delirium was one of her top concerns after she realized it wouldn't be as easy as reaching a high point and calling for help to get off the planet.

Despite the circumstances of their situation and of the personal nature, she directed her question confidently. "And yourself?"

He turned to her quickly, his dopey smile receding. She stared into the fire once again, all at once afraid to hear his answer, afraid even to look upon him. She closed her eyes. Her heart beat in her ears with deafening intensity.

He studied her from his place by the fire. She was so young still, but even as she stiffly waited for his reply, he felt his chest become heavy with affinity for her.

"A long," he took a breath and cleared his throat. "A long time ago, years ago, Kathryn and I were stranded on a planet, _not_ like this," he gestured to their surroundings. "We had no idea how long we'd be there. Maybe days, we thought, but the days turned into weeks. I was ready," he smiled to himself, "–to give up everything and live with her on this beautiful planet, just her and I. I was ready to…"

"To mate," Seven said softly.

"Yes, but not just that. I wanted to spend my whole life with her, however long or short that time would be…" his face slackened. "But…"

Seven opened her eyes and watched him from her peripherals.

"She wasn't ready to give up on Voyager, or give up her command. She had to get back. In her mind, she owed everyone. The guilt was incredible." He shook his head. "She'd work until three in the morning sometimes, lay down on her cot without sleeping and go back to her work by seven." He scoffed to himself, _of course she was up at seven._

"What happened?"

He glanced at her. "She figured it out. She wasn't ready to retire and she figured out how to save us. Our rescue was quick after that." He dusted his hands against each other. "She didn't have to readapt when we were back on Voyager. She'd never really left. I was the one who had a lot of coping to do. I had let myself go. She hadn't. And I doubt she ever would've, not even if years had gone by."

Seven asked quietly, "Why?"

"She enjoys my company," he grinned. "I'm like a fellow soldier to her in this battle to return to the Alpha Quadrant. She depends on me as her first officer, and a friend. And," he tossed a pebble into the fire, "she's never loved me, not in the mating sense," he smiled. "It all worked out in the end. I'm happy to be her support when she needs it, a friend, brother… _And_, I'm not her type. I never was."

Seven nodded. She bit her lip and then let the question spew out with little control, "Who is her type?"

Chakotay began to chuckle and it caught him like a virus. He cracked up in laughter. She turned to him with concern but as he laughed heartily and happily, she felt a small laugh come up in herself. She forgot about the pain in her leg as she laughed along with him. _Who cared if they were delirious!_

They laughed for a time as hard as both could, hysterically now and again, around the small fire.

Gradually their laughter began to subside, both breathing hard and wiping away tears.

"I don't think," Chakotay chuckled but gained control again, "I've ever laughed so hard."

Seven touched her hair as if to make sure she looked as proper as she always did, but the action tickled her–they'd been slowly dying for five days. She couldn't imagine how awful she looked! She chortled. _Being human is ridiculous!_

Chakotay eyed her from his spot across the fire with a big smile until she caught her breath and quietly smiled back at him. He envied her beauty, the way she gained Kathryn's attention so quickly, how maddening she had been to him. But seeing her now he understood why Kathryn had fallen in love with her. She was annoying, he smiled internally to himself, but she was also brave, humanly fearless. She spoke her mind. She was earnest and sincere. He could see how well Kathryn and Seven fit together, like two parts of a whole. It wasn't his place to come between two fellows, and if he tried he would only ostracize himself. Maybe he wouldn't ever get to be with Kathryn how he once wanted to be, but he was oddly relieved that the person she loved was the perfect fit. He could be free now. He could find his own path and still keep Kathryn in his life.

_Too bad we're going to die, _he thought to himself.

Seven's smile slowly fell as she stared, locked in eye contact with him. "What is it?"

He let out the most calming breath he ever had. He cleared his throat and took a messy swig of his water. "Both of them–Kathryn and the Captain, have been in love for awhile now."

Seven wanted to hear him say her name but the fear pulled at her heart in all directions.

"Who?" she trembled.

His eyes twinkled as a smile grew across his face. "It's you."

Her chest swelled with warmth, a feeling unlike any before. The warmth poured into her blood and circulated through all of her extremities.

Her head suddenly felt light and heavy at the same time.

She closed her eyes and felt a tear slide down her cheek. How she wanted to see her, just once more.

"That's why she…" Chakotay slurred as his eyes rolled back into his skull, then shot open wide and looked at Seven. "She's..." his voice faded as he slipped into unconsciousness and slumped onto himself.

"Chakotay?" Seven called.

He looked horrible, just as horrible as she felt. The end was near for both of them. She knew death was calling to her, echoing from an unknown place.

The two suns began to lift light over them as they rose. Pink and orange and blue, she stared in awe at the changing colors of the sky. This would be a fine image to die to… but it wouldn't be the one she wanted. Her face hardened.

She wanted to see Kathryn. She couldn't give up yet, not while she still had some fight in her.

It took her a long time to raise herself up and collect the crutches. It was slow, tedious work, but Chakotay had carried her miles with little food–she could muster this strength.

She knew she needed to construct something distinctive to grab anyone's attention–if there were inhabitants, if it were Tom and McGuire, or if it were Voyager, it didn't matter who, it only mattered that she saw Kathryn again.

She made her way around the dimming fire and put a hand to Chakotay's neck. His heart pumped hard. She put her hand over his forehead and found he was burning hot despite the cool air. She retrieved the last tiny bit of the hypospray and injected it into his neck. He wouldn't stir, but it would buy him a little extra time.

"I am in your debt," she said as she kissed the top of his head, just as Ensign Wildman had done to her. She hoped it brought him comfort.

She turned from him and eyed the shore. Around her at the jungle edge she gathered twigs dried by the sun. It would be tedious work, long and exhausting, but the sooner she did it, the sooner she could rest, and the seduction for rest grew stronger every moment.

For two hours she gathered every dry stick, leaf and vine she could find nearby. She piled them onto a large frond and then made her way across the sinking sand with her crutches. A massive pile of dried materials sat high on the shore, waiting for Seven.

She made her way across the sand, a final trip to their makeshift campsite. She checked Chakotay's pulse again and sat on the log he rested against. Breathing hard, pain filling her every pore, she rested a moment beside him. "I am sorry I could not repay my debt to you. Thank you for telling me about Kathryn… If we are to die, I hope you are greeted by your spirit animals." She patted his shoulder one last time.

With gritted teeth she stood once more. She took one of her crutches and stuck the top into the small fire. It caught and burned slowly. She began her last journey back across the sand.

When she arrived at the massive pile she placed the fiery crutch near the bottom and watched as the fire grew upwards. She hobbled backwards as it caught. How had she made something so beautiful in her darkest moments? It was a destructive construction she thought, a blaze as large as a shuttle, but she smiled to herself. She thought of Kathryn as she felt the warmth of the long flames rise and billow in front of her.

The edges of her eyesight began to grow dim. As she began to fall backwards she looked up at the sky. Voyager was up there somewhere. Kathryn would lead Voyager home, she knew.

But Seven's home wasn't Voyager, it was Kathryn.

She felt no pain as she sank into the sand and departed from her world.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Chakotay, Ensign McGuire and Tom sat a ways from the shuttle on the sandy beach. Despite his ordeal, Chakotay had recovered well in a short amount of time, with the new medical supplies, food and water brought personally by their Captain.

Ensign McGuire had his arm in a sling, which he explained didn't hurt thanks to an "excellent hypo." Tom was nearing the end of his rope with McGuire. The ensign had really irritated what Tom hoped wasn't an ulcer by asking a thousand questions and shadowing him much too closely–even consistently running into him. Chakotay and Seven had it easy.

Tom was relieved to have Chakotay sitting between them, by the edge of the jungle on the warm beach.

Their team had found Chakotay and Seven, though, Tom thought, it had really been the Captain who saved them. The smoke had risen and exposed their position with such great precision that the Captain took off with hyposprays as soon as he had pointed it out. He followed behind, disappointed by his slow pace.

He touched his chest. When he had ran too fast the blood from his wound had seeped through his dressing and he'd feel lightheaded. The Captain had made him promise to go at the proper pace, or she would throw him in the brig on behalf of his waiting half-Klingon fiance on board.

He eyed the shuttle 100 meters across the beach. He thought of the Captain and how she had looked when he caught up to her. It was the kind of expression he hoped never to see again—anguish. A pang of guilt flowed through him as he thought of how little help he had been to her when she came to see him about Seven. He hoped she would understand.

Inside the shuttle, a portable stretcher with a folding stand had been placed in the back. A cloth hung between the bed and the shuttle door for protection against the outside wind. Kathryn stood beside the stretcher. She had been standing for more hours than she could remember, but all that hurt was her heart.

She watched Seven carefully. She had Seven's exoskeleton hand between her own, which she gripped tightly in hopes that Seven may feel her standing by, watching her sleep, and gain some sense of support. The hypospray had helped, but Seven still hadn't stirred since she found her on the beach. Seven's eyes had been slightly open as she slid onto the sand beside her, but she didn't seem to know what was happening. Since then she hadn't opened her eyes, said a word or stirred.

She peered down at Seven pointedly. Her lips, though they had been chapped and split, had already healed, thanks to a few supplies the Doctor added last minute. Her nose, which had swollen parts of her face had also been set and healed with the supplies the Doctor provided. She would have to write him an accommodation—his attention to detail had saved three members of her crew from serious injury and death. Now only one crew member was left.

She scanned Seven from head to toe. Her leg had been set and the cage around it removed, but it would be sore for a while. Kathryn set her hand on Seven's knee gently. She would help, if Seven let her. She would go with her for physical therapy every day, or if Seven wanted to spend extra time regenerating, she would stand by her for as long as Seven permitted.

She tilted her head as she looked over Seven's facial features again. What she would give to see her eyes open. How moronic had she been to try to convince herself she didn't love her.

She gently placed a kiss on the corner of Seven's forehead. Her fever had finally come down a few days prior, and Kathryn was relieved every time she kissed Seven's forehead and found it to be a normal temperature.

Kathryn hated to do nothing but stand and wait. She thought of Seven in her ready room, how she herself had turned her back to Seven. How could she have turned away from the blonde who captured her attention whenever she was nearby? Hell, she captured her attention when she wasn't around, when Kathryn slept, when someone mentioned Seven's name in passing.

But guilt was her enemy—guilt for pushing Seven away, guilt for leading the crew to the Delta Quadrant, guilt for wanting to kiss Seven, guilt for things she hadn't done yet. Guilt had eaten away at her for so long, devouring her from the inside out. But it changed when Seven came aboard, and again when she retrieved Seven from the Borg queen, and it changed again when Seven kissed her in the ready room. How could she care for Seven so fiercely and deeply, and then turn away from her? If Seven didn't wake up… the thought was ghastly.

She couldn't lose another person, and she couldn't lose this one in particular. It would crumble her, bankrupt her of the small flicker struggling to stay alive inside.

How could she lead her crew home after one too many losses?—or was that just an excuse to do what would make her happy? The Captain still clutched the reins, but Kathryn was fighting back.

What was so wrong with her finding some happiness? She could feel love in one instance of her life and guilt in the other, couldn't she? Were they so totally mutually exclusive?

It wouldn't be perfect, but she wanted Seven. It scared her, but it was also exhilarating.

The Captain and Kathryn argued back and forth. Incessantly.

Finally, she bowed and rested her forehead tenderly against Seven's. She closed her eyes and slowed her breath so that it matched Seven's calm tempo.

"Kathryn…" a muted voice broke the silence. It was so quiet Kathryn assumed she had heard it in her own head.

"Kathryn…" it was louder now.

She pulled away from Seven quickly and watched her with anxiety and excitement. "I'm here. I'm right here." She clutched Seven's hand tighter.

Seven's eyes fluttered open and then fell closed. She tried again, her blue eyes regarding a figure above her. She frowned. The blurry image slowly came into focus and she recognized the redhead.

The light in the room behind her made her look angelic, and she realized with a rising panic that she felt no pain in her body—"I am deceased."

Kathryn's eyes grew large, "No." She held Seven's hand to her mouth and kissed her palm. "You're not dead. You're alive."

Seven frowned, struggling to keep her eyes open. "I do not recognize this dream. There's salt but where are the curtains?"

Kathryn watched her carefully. She wasn't sure what Seven meant but she knew it would take awhile for her to find her bearings. Keeping one hand tightly around the exoskeleton, with her other she lightly touched Seven's hairline, thankful to speak with her once again. "You're okay. You're safe."

"Indiana…"

Kathryn held back a smile that threatened to turn into a sob. "Yes." A tear fell down one of her cheeks. "I would like to show it to you. I would like for you to meet my mother and my family." She looked back and forth between Seven's crystal blue eyes.

Seven lifted her arm with great effort and placed her fingers on Kathryn's cheek. Kathryn leaned into her touch, more tears wetting her face.

Her eyes still heavy, Seven squinted and beheld Kathryn. A smile began to creep up at the corners of her mouth. Kathryn held back her tears, finding a deepening smile on her own face.

Kathryn leaned over Seven, resting one hand on the stretcher to hold herself over her. Strands of her hair fell and lightly lapped against Seven's cheek.

"You're going to be okay," Kathryn whispered against the corner of Seven's mouth, her wet cheek touching Seven. "I almost lost you."

Seven breathed in her familiar scent. She had never been able to replicate it properly.

Kathryn placed her lips against the corner of Seven's mouth and then pulled away to look at her. Seven set her fingers on Kathryn's cheek, keeping her close. She regarded her, Kathryn all of a sudden a bit shy, looked back at Seven with adoration. She let her closer. Kathryn tilted her head as she neared, their lips hovering beside one another's.

"Knock, knock," Tom said as he walked into the shuttle behind the cloth.

Kathryn pulled away smoothly as he came around the makeshift divider. He caught the tiniest bit of movement—the Captain's hand as it slid away from Seven's head. He didn't let on but found the Captain wouldn't look him directly in the eye. She discreetly wiped her tears away.

"How's the patient?"

The Captain smiled customarily. "She's awake."

He came around the other side of the stretcher opposite of Kathryn and smiled energetically at Seven. She returned a dimmed smile back to him.

He glanced at the Captain who still focused on everything except he and Seven. "B'Elanna would've killed me if you didn't make it," he chuckled.

"The same goes for myself as well," Seven replied with a little smirk.

Kathryn watched them indirectly, pleasantly surprised to find that Seven and Tom had become friends. B'Elanna was right, Seven was one of them now.

"You can say that again," he shot back at her. "You got off pretty easy."

Seven grinned but it was gone quickly as she thought of Chakotay. "Chakotay?" She looked between Tom and Kathryn desperately.

Kathryn held up a hand. "He's fine," she said softly, looking deeply into Seven's eyes.

"Yep," Tom said feeling awkward as the two women stared at one another. "He'll be just fine, thanks to you."

Seven frowned at Tom and looked back at Kathryn, "I do not understand."

"Your fire." She spoke softly, regarding her with a mischievous look. Seven gazed at her, her lips curling into a smile as she thought of what Chakotay said—_she's thoughtful and mischievous in the most captivating ways. _She added another word to the list—_lovely._

Kathryn suddenly felt flush as the blonde smiled up at her with a distant look. She glanced at Tom sideways and held back a grin peering at Seven again with amusement. "Do you remember the fire?"

_Did she remember the fire? _Flashes of that last night appeared to her but she found they had mingled with ones of Kathryn, and she wasn't sure which were real and which weren't. She remembered the warmth of the fire, Kathryn's breath on her, carrying her alight crutch across the sand, Kathryn's hair falling around her, the smoke as it rose from the pile of dead plants, Kathryn's scent—coffee and cinnamon and sweat, and her red lips hovering above her own, and the fire came back to her again. She had spent hours going back and forth from the jungle to the beach. She had lit one of her crutches on fire and hobbled back to the pile, falling more than once but securing the fire all the same. And then lighting the pile, watching it, feeling the warmth of the flames, backing away as it grew taller than her, beholding the sky above and acknowledging her feelings head-on.

She absolutely remembered the fire. "Yes, Kathryn," she said in a breathy, pining tone.

Kathryn swallowed hard. She hoped Tom would pretend he hadn't heard the way Seven addressed her.

Tom grew more uncomfortable second by second. "Well it looks like the patient is going to make it!" Tom tried to sound as animated as possible. Both women slowly turned their gaze from each other and looked at him with amusement. _Oh god. Now there are two of them. _He clapped his hands together as he stepped away from them. "Seven–glad your feeling better. Captain–we should probably get moving if we want to avoid the next rotation."

The Captain replied to him in her normal authoritative way, "How much time, Lt.?"

He checked his tricorder. "About ten minutes. It'll take us a little while to help Chakotay across the sand."

She nodded tersely. "Thank you, Tom."

He nodded back and left behind the curtain. He straightened his tunic as he began the walk back to the other men. He smiled at how _Kathryn, _he mimicked the way Seven had said it in his mind, and Seven had been so affectionate with one another without actually doing anything. He'd have to give his Captain some pointers on being more subtle, though she would probably get a handle on it quickly, like she did everything.

He stood in front of the two men with new energy.

"Time to go?" Chakotay asked.

Tom nodded. "McGuire," he said sternly and the ensign hurried to his feet. With one on each side, they helped Chakotay get up. With one broken foot healing and a deep cut down his back, it would take them a few minutes to reach the shuttle.

Inside, Kathryn took Seven's hand in her own again. She smiled down at Seven with red cheeks and ears. She knew she was blushing and cast her eyes down. Seven liked the way she blushed. She placed her fingers around Kathryn's chin and turned her so that she was once again peering into her eyes.

"Thank you," Seven said quietly, running her fingers along Kathryn's cheek.

Kathryn raised her eyebrows and held back an amused, crooked grin.

Seven let her fingers fall along her neck and then wrapped her hand around her shoulder. She pulled Kathryn down to her steadily. Both sets of eyes fell closed as Kathryn tilted her head and hovered her lips over Seven's once more.

Seven waited. If Kathryn wanted to kiss her, she would have to do it of her own volition. No matter how agonizing.

A moment passed.

Seven wondered if she could feel her heart beating and her body aching, but she would not lose control. She would wait if she had to for Kathryn, for much longer than a mere millennia.

Kathryn sent a mental prayer into the world, hoping to all that was good, that she could have this love. Seven had brought her back from near self-destruction. She promised to cherish Seven, treat her right, and protect her, no matter what.

Kathryn lowered her lips onto Seven's.

Seven let herself go to Kathryn instantly, letting Kathryn kiss her softly and then slowly, more deeply. She was surprised and roused as Kathryn slipped her tongue inside of her mouth. She wrapped her arms around Kathryn's neck and pulled her close, letting out a soft moan as Kathryn wetly bit down on Seven's lip. Seven was sure she'd never felt or tasted anything quite like it.

She gasped for air as Kathryn kissed across her cheek and against her ear. Seven shivered underneath her, breathless as Kathryn kissed down from her ear to her neck. Seven moaned as Kathryn bit the same muscle Seven had kissed on her not long ago.

Seven's breath hitched as Kathryn moved back to her lips, kissing her again with rising exhilaration. Seven pulled away slowly, her mouth open, Kathryn kissing her chin, her muscles thrumming.

Seven swallowed, wanting to savor the taste of Kathryn. "We must stop," she said breathlessly.

"No," Kathryn purred into her ear and nuzzled against Seven.

Seven smiled at Kathryn's sudden stubbornness. She placed her hands on Kathryn's neck and moved her so she could get a good look at her. "Tom, ensign McGuire and Chakotay will be here momentarily."

Kathryn touched Seven's hairline with her thin fingers. She slid her hand down onto Seven's neck and then brushed her thumb across Seven's lips with endearment. "If that's what you wish."

Seven simpered. "I do not wish to be without you, but we must continue to be careful. You are the Captain."

Kathryn leaned down and kissed her gently. She slid her cheek against Seven's and let her lips touch lightly against Seven's ear. "You're my Captain."

Tom spoke loudly to the men as they arrived within earshot of the shuttle. With great willpower Kathryn pulled away from Seven. She wiped her mouth, touched her hair and pulled her tunic down to straighten it. She eyed Seven questioningly.

Seven nodded, heavy with desire and pride. How had she let this remarkable woman escape her for so long?

Kathryn eyed the curtain–she could hear the men just reaching the shuttle doorway. She leaned down and kissed Seven. Sliding her cheek against Seven's once more, she whispered into her ear. "I love you."

She promptly pulled away and made her way around the hanging cloth to assist the men with Chakotay.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Tom's tricorder began to beep in his pocket as he and ensign McGuire pulled with every ounce of strength to close the shuttle door against the strengthening winds. Chakotay leaned on the Captain as she walked him to a bench in the back.

Seven promptly rose from the stretcher. Upon her first step she faltered and caught herself against the stretcher. She peeked at Janeway to find her keeping an eye on her. She straightened and got her bearings with resolve. Her leg was still sore as Kathryn had told her, but she wouldn't let it stop her. She walked deliberately across the shuttle with a small limp and a large grimace. Upon reaching the controls she sat in the connected chair. She let out a small yelp but the wind from outside blared louder and it went unheard.

"Captain?" she called.

"Lift us up," she gave instructions from the back of the shuttle over the noise. She tapped McGuire and he moved out of the way and sat beside Chakotay. She grabbed the metal bar across the shuttle door.

Janeway called over her shoulder to Seven, "Keep us between 38 and 40,000 feet!" She turned back to Tom and caught his attention with a determined expression. "On three! One. Two. Three!" They both clenched their teeth and pulled with all their might. The shuttle door finally gave and suctioned close. They both panted, ears ringing from the sudden lack of sound.

After a few breaths, Tom doubled over holding his chest. Janeway turned to him swiftly, placing a hand on his arm.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," he repeated. "Just need a minute."

Janeway wasn't buying it. He was trying to be tough but she had seen far too many act tough and die from their wounds. "Let me see, Tom." It wasn't a question–it was an order.

He stood upright best he could and showed her the dressings around his chest and torso. Blood soaked through.

"I'm okay," he repeated.

"Come on," she put her arm around him carefully and walked him over to the bench beside Chakotay. She sat him down as McGuire moved off. She peered into Tom's eyes and found he was coming and going out of consciousness.

"Get me a med kit!" She ordered to McGuire.

Noise rose above them again as the shuttlecraft lifted against forceful wind, rain and a thickening atmosphere.

McGuire quickly took off in search of a medkit, checking around the stretcher first. Janeway kept a hand on each of the men as the ship rattled and shook. She and Chakotay shared a look–they both knew they weren't out of the woods yet.

The shuttle rattled harder as it drew higher into the atmosphere.

"Ensign!" Janeway shouted. McGuire frantically searched for one of the kits as things began bouncing around from the shaking. He finally spotted a medkit lodged between the shuttle wall and an emergency panel. He tugged but it wouldn't budge. Sweat poured from him as he pulled harder and harder, imploring the Universe to grant him the medkit or else be dropped off on some forsaken planet, like this one, by the Captain. Finally, the kit gave and he fell backwards with it clutched in his hands. He threw it open to check it was unused, and then closed it as he trekked across the convulsing shuttlecraft.

"Report!" Kathryn called to Seven at the controls while McGuire switched places with her and held the two men up as she prepared a hypospray.

"Thermal heat," Seven yelled back over her shoulder. "1-7-7-3.1-5 Kelvin!"

"Lava again," Kathryn said to herself as she pressed the hypospray to Tom's neck.

"There also appears–" Seven began as the shuttle was struck by a hard force. They jolted roughly and Janeway fell backward onto the ground. McGuire was about to assist her but he looked between Chakotay and Tom who both seemed to barely be holding on.

"Stay!" Janeway barked. She pulled herself up from the ground and tossed the empty hypospray aside. She pulled herself to the control panel beside Seven, the shuttle now shaking at a 65 degree angle.

"What was it?" She ordered as she grabbed onto the consol to hold herself in position.

"Negative lightning," Seven reported as a bolt struck directly in front of the viewport.

"At this altitude?" Janeway questioned to herself as she punched a few buttons on her console.

"The strikes appear to be increasing in charge and duration," Seven reported as she tried to navigate through the shower of blue and white lightning strikes. "We must move higher!"

"The shuttle can't handle the pressure! Wait-" The device B'Elanna had given her didn't work on the planet's surface, but if the tech worked closer to the ozone, Voyager could beam them out. Another strike hit the shuttle directly above. Janeway's hands slipped from the console but with one hand Seven caught Kathryn's arm and pulled her forward again.

Janeway glanced behind her to find a large piece of metal equipment split and a long shard of pointed metal sticking up. She raised her eyebrows–_that was a close one._

"Coordinates!" she called. Another strike. This jolt was bigger. She grabbed tightly onto Seven's chair and held herself steadily as the shuttlecraft rocked and whined under the strain.

Seven relayed the coordinates aloud to her and she punched them quickly into the Morse code makeshift communicator. Seven navigated best they could through the large, long strikes of lightning around them, but the strikes only grew in number. The viewport showed them a sea of volatile electricity screaking down to the planet's surface from above them.

Janeway punched in another code, a beam up for five. The timing would need to be just right.

"Take us up," she growled, eyeing the spectacle in front of them.

Seven quickly followed order and directed them higher. The shaking increased. Alarms went off. "Losing power," Seven relayed.

"Keep going!" Janeway held onto the chair with one hand and gripped the communicator in the other.

"Life support at 5%," Seven announced as she punched a few buttons.

"Hold steady," Janeway said through teeth as they continued to rise into the dense, unforgiving atmosphere.

"Life support at 1%."

Janeway held her thumb over the button of the communicator.

"Life support at .5%."

As soon as she heard Seven she began the sequence. _Hold tap. Hold, hold, hold. Tap, hold, hold._

Blue light began to surround each member. Janeway touched her hand to Seven's shoulder as the entire crew disappeared from the damaged shuttlecraft.

Reappearing in transporter room one, Janeway quickly caught Seven as she began to fall as result of her damaged leg. Ensign McGuire couldn't catch both men and saw that Tom seemed to hold his weight, so he grabbed Chakotay and stabilized him against himself.

Janeway assisted Seven down from the pad. "I am able," Seven said as she hobbled to a bench and sat. Tom still swayed in place and Janeway quickly tucked her arm under him and sat him on the edge of the pad. She saw that McGuire held Chakotay well and turned around with suspicious curiosity. There was no one at the teleporter console.

She eyed Seven who also noticed.

Seven tapped her combadge, "Seven to Tuvok."

They waited but no answer came. She locked her attention on the Captain.

Janeway tapped her own combadge, "Janeway to Tuvok."

No answer.

"Janeway to bridge." She eyed Tom, Chakotay and McGuire as the two officers sat beside one another on the ledge of the transporter.

No answer.

She looked up instinctively, "Computer, locate Tuvok."

The computer didn't respond. She turned around again and approached Seven. "Something's going on."

Seven stood and set her leg down carefully. "We must move from this location."

The doors opened suddenly and six entities entered the room with guns drawn. Seven had moved quickly in an attempt to stand between Janeway and the beasts but Janeway had moved quicker and held Seven behind her.

"Who are you and why are you on my ship?" Janeway asked seriously with a fierce expression at the 6 beings, tall and covered in long white hair that stuck out in tufts from their leather robes. She waited as the one in front examined her. She thought they were almost cute, like tall, thin, shaggy-haired polar bears, but, she noted to herself, their eyes were cold.

The head creature kept its gun drawn on her. "You are Captain Janeway."

"And who are you?" She snarled.

"Come," the creature demanded.

"I will not be ordered around on my own ship."

The creature slowly moved his gun from her to Seven, a small red dot moving from Janeway's chest to Seven's forehead. The Captain looked up at Seven behind her and quickly held her hands up.

"I'll come with you. Don't harm my crew."

Two of the other creatures approached her as she moved away from Seven who reluctantly released her grip on Kathryn's tunic.

The creatures, a good 7 feet tall, took an arm each and brought her back to their group.

She stopped in front of the leader eyeing his unique appearance by the tuft of black hair growing on the top of its white-haired body. "I insist on bringing my First Officer."

The creature looked up at Seven with a small slinky smile but Kathryn had locked eyes with McGuire. McGuire stepped forward and some of the creatures pointed their weapons at him.

"Him?" The leader pressed with a baritone voice.

Janeway nodded with raised eyebrows as if the question was a ridiculous one. "Obviously."

He waved McGuire over and two more creatures grasped him on either side.

One of the other creatures standing by the leader spoke quietly, "What of the others?"

"Go," the leader said to the other creatures.

Kathryn caught Seven's eye briefly before the creatures pulled her out of the transportation room.

Only the leader and his second hand remained.

"Where is the crew?" Seven asked with a glare.

The leader and his subordinate observed her but only spoke to one another. "Put them somewhere in the cargo bay for now."

"Yes, sir."

The leader turned to leave but Seven wasn't finished. Despite the gun pointed at her she called to the leader once again, "Who are you?"

The leader turned around with a chilling sparkle in his eyes, "We are Mugato-twanitaf. I am Sulethian. Who are you Borg-human? I haven't seen a creature like you before."

Seven ignored his comment on her. "I am unfamiliar with your species. How do you know of humans?"

Sulethian observed her with revulsion, "You are more human than Borg." He exited the transportation room.

Seven turned to the last remaining Mugato-twanitaf. With Chakotay and Tom weak and inept, Seven knew she was now charged to watch over them; McGuire would be more useful to the Captain.

"Move, move them," the creature barked.

Seven inclined her head. She approached the two men with a painful limp and helped Chakotay to his feet. Tom stood on his own but he remained hunched over from the searing burning in his chest. His dressings, soaked in blood, were drying and sticking to his skin.

The creature followed behind them with his gun drawn. Seven knew what she needed to do.

She had to get to cargo bay 2.

* * *

**The end of part 1.**

**Part 2: The Mugato War**


End file.
